VeronaChat
by Eupa
Summary: Mocking Romeo&Juliet by adapting the tale to the modern world of chatrooms, text conversations and noobs. Not intended as even remotely serious. Includes Crack!love triangle- the real reason for the Mercutio-Tybalt duel! Romeo&Juliet is obligatory. Shame.
1. Act 1, Scene 1

**A/N: Here is Romeo & Juliet adapted to the internet. A random chatroom in fact. It is, in essence, mocking Romeo and Juliet. I had to study this play for a whole goddam year; this is my revenge. The characters have been adapted a smidge...in some cases a huge amount, but the plot is effectively the same, just over the internet, so that everyone can see how it fails.**

**Apologies for the necessary slang, abbreviations and generally shoddy spelling- I assure you I am not half as illiterate as the more imbecilic characters; wanted them to sound properly noobish etc.**

Note: italic name/name means private message.

_Two households, both alike in dignity,  
On fair VeronaChat, where we type our scene, _

_From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,  
Where rick-rolling makes civil keys unclean.  
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes  
A pair of wire-cross'd lovers take their life;  
Whole misadventured piteous overthrows  
Do with their loss bin their parents' spamming.  
The fearful transmission of their death-mark'd love,  
And the continuance of their parents' posting,  
Which, but their children's end, nought could delete,  
Is now the many chapters' traffic of this fic;  
The which if you with speedy typing attend,  
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to send._

* * *

**In VeronaChat. Open conference 203... **

**Sampson**: The Monts've really done it this time.

**Gregory**: What'd they do?

**Sampson**: Well, I heard, on the grapevine and all, that they RICKROLLED Romeo!

**Gregory**: Rick rolled? But dude, that's just not kool!

**Sampson**: Yeah! I mean, wth man? He's never even hacked a password!

**Gregory**: 2 true. 2 True.

**Sampson**: Dude, why are you repeating yourself?

**Gregory**: I dunno.

**Sampson**: W/e. I mean, no one even knows how this feud even started ffs!

**Gregory**: Maybe it was just there...

**Sampson**: What, since the Big Bang ya mean?

**Gregory**: It coulda been. Ya know, one of them...thingies.

**Sampson**: ...Bloody descriptive mate...

**Sampson**: ...The Montagues musta done sumthing really harsh tho.

**Abraham has joined the chat**

_Gregory/Sampson_: Speak o' the devil!

_Sampson/Gregory_: Dude, let's pwn him!

_Gregory/Sampson_: Wat? R ya crazy? We've only just got back from being banned, man!

_Sampson/Gregory_: C'mon dude! He's probs the one who rick rolled the boss' kid! We could PWN him! Totally legit!

_Gregory/Sampson_: But dude...What about the rules? He could report us!

_Sampson/Gregory_: Screw em! Ffs man, this is a bloody Monty! We gotta get him before his buds arrive!

_Gregory/Sampson_: ...I guess.

_Sampson/Gregory_: What're ya waiting for then?

**Gregory**: Hey, noob!

**Abraham**: Ya talking to me?

**Sampson**: Well, this is a bleeding chatroom, dumb ass. Talking is the point!

**Abraham**: W/e.

**Gregory**: Yeah I'm talking to ya, noob.

**Abraham**: Wtf man? Wth is wrong with you?

**Sampson**: He knows what's wrong with ya.

**Abraham**: Oh yeah?

**Sampson**: Hell yeah!

_Sampson/Gregory_: Tell him then. C'mon dude! Make it a good one!

**Gregory**: You wanna know what's wrong with you?

**Abraham**: Might as well, could do wiv a laugh.

_Sampson/Gregory_: Get on with it dude!

**Gregory**: What's wrong with you is...You just lost the game.

**Abraham**: BITCH!

**Sampson**: Ya calling him a bitch?

**Abraham**: Damn right I am! What're ya gunna do about it?

**Gregory**: *Bites thumb*

**Abraham**: Oh, it's on man!

_Sampson/Gregory_: Niiiice dude! We got him now!

**Gregory**: Bring it, we can take ya!

**Abraham**: Don't make me bring in ma clan.

**Sampson**: So what? We've gotta clan!

**Gregory**: A clan waay better than urs dude.

**Sampson**: Hell, our clan's so good, even the mafia don't mess with us.

**Abraham**: Lol, my clan's so awesome, when we go to cons, Vic Mignogna wants our autograph!

_Gregory/Sampson_: DAMN! ...I mean, how can we top VIC MIGNOGNA?

_Sampson/Gregory_: Shut up and pwn him!

**Gregory**: Our clan's so huge, if we all joined hands we'd reach the fucking moon, man!

**Abraham**: I bet your clan's so small, it makes your balls look like the sun.

**Sampson**: Wtf are you saying man?

**Abraham**: that you all have small balls, dumb ass.

**Benvolio has joined the chat.**

**Gregory:** Right, I'll kill ya for that!

**Abraham**: Whatcha gunna do, cyber-slap me?

**Benvolio**: Stop the violence!

_Sampson/Gregory_: Ain't he a Monty too?

_Gregory/Sampson_: Yeah! We should tell the Boss man!

_Sampson/Tybalt_: Hey boss, we've got BENVOLIO in room 203!

**Gregory**: You can't order us around, you aren't even a rep!

**Benvolio**: I believe in peace! Why must we quarrel at all hours? Can a man ever indulge in peaceful conversation on this accursed chat?

**Sampson**: You can indulge all you bleedin' like, but we still ain't gunna back down!

**Gregory**: If you're with the noob, we're against ya.

**Abraham**: I ain't no n00b! I'm gunna pwn ya!

**Tybalt has entered the chat.**

**Benvolio**: Please! Pause awhile! Let your rational minds return! This is not our fight! It is purely between the heads of two houses; none of our concern! Why must you all flock to the sidelines like flapping wet hens? Have you no more mind than those chickens we eat?

**Tybalt**: Shut your pie-hole Benny boy. No one gives a shit about your poetic dreams. Or your overuse of semi-frigging-colons.

**Benvolio**: Will you not aid me in helping these chaps see sense? And be so good as to leave my punctuation out of this.

**Tybalt**: I see sense always, Benny; you have forgotten. You are of Montague, and you are outnumbered. No wonder you are so keen on peace! Take your posh-ass accent and your dictionary-eating self the hell out of here. You talk like my grandmother.

**Benvolio**: Were our places reversed, I still would seek peace!

_Benvolio/Tybalt: _I spy a semi-colon in your previous speech...

**Tybalt**: Lol, I think not. You never have before.

**Benvolio**: On my honour, you are mistaken!

_Tybalt/Benvolio: _I'm allowed.

_Benvolio/Tybalt:_ As am I!

**Tybalt**: Do not bring your honour into this, little Ben. It's something you can't afford to lose after all...What with your...fancies.

_Tybalt/Benvolio:_ Well, if that's what rocks your boat...

**Benvolio**: I do not understand you. You speak in riddles and rhymes Tybalt of Capulet, yet I am left in the dark.

**Tybalt**: The dark of a closet perhaps...

_Benvolio/Tybalt: _Will you ever move on from such jibes about what you believe to be my sexual orientation? It is truly tedious and repetitive, not to mention implying that you are rather fixated by such things...

**Gregory**: Owch.

_Tybalt/Benvolio: _Maybe I am ;)

_Benvolio/Tybalt:_ ...

_Tybalt/Benvolio:_ Rofl, had you worried there!

_Benvolio/Tybalt:_ Not even slightly! I was unperturbed! Whyever should I be affected by a mere smiley?

_Tybalt/Benvolio:_ Like fuck you were unperturbed. And it's not just a smiley, it's MY smiley. ;)

**Sampson**: Lol! Nice one Tyb!

_Tybalt/Sampson_: Call me that ever again and I will switch your kneecap and face.

_Benvolio/Tybalt: _You are the oddest creature I have ever encountered. One moment you attack me, the next you overuse smileys.

_Tybalt/Benvolio: _You overuse semicolons.

_Benvolio/Tybalt:_ And?

_Tybalt/Benvolio:_ Makes us even, wouldn't you say, Mr Peace?

**Benvolio**: I am not ashamed of who I am! There is naught in the world that can change me!

_Benvolio/Tybalt: _We are never equal.

**Tybalt**: Naught? I know you're upper-crust and all, but isn't that a bit...old for you?

**Benvolio**: Must you pick apart all I say?

_Tybalt/Benvolio:_ Well, I agree I am clearly the more attractive...

_Benvolio/Tybalt:_ I challenge you to prove that.

**Tybalt**: Why not? Are you failing to keep up, fag?

**Benvolio**: Do not insult me, Tybalt!

**Tybalt**: Hah, do not presume to forbid me. What can you do? Report me?

**Benvolio**: I shall!

_Tybalt/Benvolio:_ Check your inbox.

_Benvolio/Tybalt: _Oh, hilarious. Really, a cunningly disguised link to Rick Astley. You excel yourself.

**Tybalt**: Very well, cower behind your machines. But can you hide so well from reality?

**Benvolio**: Do I detect a threat?

_Tybalt/Benvolio: _;) Well, you didn't think I was REALLY flirting with you, did you?

_Benvolio/Tybalt: _If that's your idea of flirting, you shall not get far.

**Tybalt**: Congrats, finally understanding are we Benny? What's the matter, afraid you won't measure up to me in RL? ;)

_Tybalt/Benvolio: _Then I suppose we really are equal.

**Benvolio**: There is nothing of yours which I do not also possess.

**Tybalt**: Lmao! Even in the heat of fury, you still manage to sound like a girl. How do you do so, oh great Benny?

**Benvolio**: I refuse to tolerate this!

**Tybalt**: Go on then, report me!

**Sampson**: LMFAO! Good one, boss!

_/Benvolio sends a nudge._

**Tybalt**: What is this? Observe fellow chatters, that I retaliate only in self-defence!

_/Tybalt sends a nudge._

_/Gregory sends a nudge._

_/Benvolio sends a nudge._

_/Abraham sends a nudge._

_/Tybalt sends a nudge._

_/Benvolio sends a nudge._

_/Sampson sends a nudge._

_/Tybalt sends a nudge._

_/Gregory sends a nudge._

_/Benvolio sends a nudge._

_/Tybalt sends a nudge._

_/Gregory sends a nudge._

_/Sampson sends a nudge._

_/Benvolio sends a nudge._

_/Abraham sends a nudge._

_/Tybalt sends a nudge._

**Tybalt**: Surrender, cowards!

**Escalus has entered the chat**

**Escalus**: You have been muted temporarily. This is your warning. Any further misuse of this chat shall result in expulsion. Continue and your accounts may be deleted.

**Escalus has left the chat.**

* * *

**Email Inbox for Benvolio:**

**Montague HQ**: Romeo has been out of sorts lately, and has not been seen since this morning. Any ideas what might be troubling him?

**Benvolio**: No, shall endeavour to find out forthwith.

**Montague HQ**: Much appreciated. Stay in touch.

* * *

**Benvolio's iPhone:**

**Benvolio**: Greetings! Where are you?

**Romeo**: Hiding. Duh.

**Benvolio**: Romeo, your parents are in a state of great distress over your whereabouts, good fellow. Is it about your slight mishap with the rick-rolling trick? Many others have been the subject of such, you know; tis rather underhanded in the main.

**Romeo**: I don't want to talk to them...I am busy contemplating the meaning of my existence. And marvelling at how you manage to type your lengthy speeches so fast on a touch screen.

**Benvolio**: In need of any assistance?

**Romeo**: ...Are you offering help? Want me to talk to Frank?

**Benvolio**: Well, I have naught else to do; Representative Escalus has removed me from chat temporarily, following a mild nudge war which I had no business participating in.

**Romeo**: Good to know I'm your top priority.

**Benvolio**: Of course you are, good cousin! Come now; tell Doctor Ben all about it! Were you a participant in VeronaChat, contacting you would be far more convenient...

**Romeo**: Only if you never refer to yourself like that again. And you know how I feel about chats. The real world is far more important.

**Benvolio**: Yet not half so fun. Or useful. Besides, I fail to understand your hostility to computers, whilst you have no real hatred for your own arch-rival!

**Romeo**: *sigh* I'm in the park. Venture outside if you dare.

**Romeo's phone is off.**

* * *

**Text message to Mercutio:**

**Benvolio: **Hi Merc, Romeo seems to be in a state of mild depression at the current instance. Would you care to accompany me to the park, to locate the secretive swine and improve his aforementioned mood? Ben.

**Mercutio: **Sure. Let's bop his mood right back to full, dude! Like Mario with some coins, dude!

* * *

**Real life...for a fleeting instant:**

* * *

With some muttered hypotheses fresh in their minds, Mercutio and Benvolio meandered towards the park, blinking furiously as is common after spending an obscene amount of time before a computer screen. The glistening emerald leaves absorbed most of the sunlight, hungrily swallowing it into their cells for photosynthesis, silently releasing oxygen into the air that seemed to physically hang from the boughs around them. Thick and almost smothering, the heat from the golden strands did not seem to dissipate even slightly. Such unfavourable conditions might have been a warning...or a common occurance in summer.

Heading from the path into an open area, containing a small brown bench, the paint paling and peeling away to reveal a dim grey frame. Such desolate appearances were somewhat ruined by the addition of a sprawling and obviously wealthy teenager, oversized sunglasses obscuring most of his face, with chain around his neck, silver, and clearly expressly attempting to look like a bicycle chain whilst also displaying its clear wealth and designer status (some might consider this an oxymoronic approach, but it seemed to have worked). With dusty blond hair, the sort that comes from a bottle rather than actual dust, and a scruffy blue shirt, tattered in all the right places, like the patches of knee exposed after the precise application of razor blades to his jeans.

**_"_**Romeo! Old chap, you look rather blue!" A purposefully pompous voice rang out, summoning the youth's attention as he tilted his sunglasses onto his forehead, spitting the match he had, for no apparent reason, put in his mouth, onto the ground.

The taller of the two new arrivals sighed, waving a hand in a half-hearted flourish as the various Zelda-style Rupees hanging from his necklace jangled gently at the slightest movement. "Ben, we're in RL now, you don't need to talk like that." His voice was soft as he watched the lounging youth with a mildly calculating expression before grinning, hauling the youth into an awkward and typically male handshake-hug, releasing him and stealing his place with a jaunty smirk. Such an expression mirrored the Mario Mushroom on his black shirt, contrasting rather dramatically with the orange pacman jacket which had, for some reason, been nearest to the door on his way to exit his home. Romeo's groan of disapproval was little more than amusement, and he made a show of folding his arms and pouting until the tanned boy shook his dark hair from his eyes and shunted across to the edge of the bench, leaving his friend room to continue his lounging.

Watching with an expression of amusement, Benvolio adjusted the cuffs of his pale blue shirt, formal and stiff-collared, fiddling slightly awkwardly with the metal cufflinks that were utterly superfluous but looked rather dignified. "But it's such frightful fun!" His protest was cut short by the interruption of Romeo, who had slumped back into a state of theatrical disillusionment.

"It hardly matters. Nothing on this earth could lower my mood any lower than it is right now."

Ever the mind-reader, Mercutio thumped his friend on the shoulder gently in what might be seen as a gesture of brotherly solidarity...Or something along those lines. "Girl trouble eh? Tough luck man." The grin on his face faded slightly, although his mushroom smirked out at the world with a smugness that would put most political leaders to shame.

**"**It is tough." Romeo sighed, leaning his head backwards as though to stare directly at the sun, though his eyes were tightly shut, and hidden behind dark glasses. His very posture suggested the epitome of self-pity and tedious lethargy, and induced a strange mixture of pity and irritation in his friends' minds. Dramatic self-pity had always been Romeo's weakness.

Hovering near Mercutio in an awkward stance, perhaps made worse by the conspicuous lack of slouching that one would expect, Benvolio ruefully tugged at a stray strand of his ginger hair, his mind wandering for a moment to express how fortunate it was that Tybalt did not know he was ginger. He got enough mockery focused at him as it was, he didn't need it in the realms of cyberspace as well! "And which lady has left you in so sorry a state?" He hastily returned to the subject at hand, falling back into a speech pattern far more fitting to Shakespeare's kinsmen than a fourteen-year-old with mild acne.

"Ben! For god's sake! We know you're up for Shakespearean amateur of the year, but talk properly or shut it!" Mercutio clammed up abruptly; such harsh words weren't usually his forte, but combined with Romeo's self-pity and antagonising, Benvolio's tendency towards the aged voices of old were rather irritating.

**"**Sorry." The Shakespearean fan shuffled his feet awkwardly, scuffing at the dirt which was too dry to stick to the soles, although it did manage to cling onto the shining leather presented to it in the form of dull reddish dust.

With a gesture of total despair, running his hand across the top of his forehead and back through his hair, Romeo whined about his troubles. "She shall not talk to me! She ignores me at all times!"

"Rosalie? STILL? Man, get over her!" Frustration won Mercutio's heart, and he leapt to his feet to circle the bench, sick to death of having this conversation. For three weeks now, Romeo had been pining. Pining, for a girl he'd met once. At least she was real, or at least living in reality, which was more than his friend was. His family's money had given him the idea that pining was the best way to get things. That did not work with people.

**"**How can I?" Sighed Romeo, sinking his head into his hands in a more obvious gesture, mutating into the very picture of woe.

**"**Surely you could find another way to talk to her."

"Well, she is always on chat." Mercutio added, as he shot a grin to Benvolio, apologetic for his brief moment of anger previously. Romeo didn't half get on his nerves when in this state...

"But..." Romeo's next words seemed to be edging dangerously towards a rhetorical monologue, and Mercutio decided that enough was enough.

"Do you want to win her over or not, Rom?"

Benvolio heaved a sigh of relief at the interruption. If Romeo had gone much further, he would no doubt have ended up misquoting a literary great again. That sort of behaviour was sickening.

"Yes, but-"

**"**Sorted. Back to the world of chat! My muting must have worn off by now anyway!" Benvolio's response was more excited than usual, if only in the efforts to steer the conversations away from literary ignorance and into the realm of messaging. The words "check your inbox" seemed to drift across the dull ground and into his ears, and for some reason, the voice he imagined to be saying them did not seem as bone-chilling as expected.

"Badass." Mercutio nodded approvingly. Being banned was the purpose of chat, after all.

Three sets of footsteps trotted towards their homes; one shuffling along at a morose pace, one meandering homewards with a confident gait, and the last striding towards his home with a sense of purpose and elation that came with a sense of belonging somewhere.

* * *

**Back to VeronaChat!**

**Benvolio**: In truth, it is simple, good friend.

**Romeo**: I think I may be getting the hang of this!

**Mercutio**: Now, I heard that Rosalie's going to an internet rave tonight, on a private channel.

**Romeo**: How the hell do you know that?

**Mercutio**: What are you, a rep?

**Romeo**: A what?

**Benvolio**: Tis of no importance. What is our strategy, Merc?

**Mercutio**: I was thinking just change the display names. It's a disguise rave.

**Romeo**: Display names?

* * *

**Several minutes later, the private channel has been hacked. (A/N: Paris=BieberFever because he is the essence of FAILURE.)**

**BossMan**: I agree, Paris, that you may indeed be the one I would most like to be my son-in-law.

**BieberFever**: Thank you sir.

**BossMan**: And your idea of proposing after the party is a touch of genius.

**BieberFever**: It was merely a thought sir.

**BossMan**: Good man. Now, have a good time.

**BieberFever**: I shall sir, if my future bride does also.

**BossMan**: lol, she will. Have fun.

**BieberFever: **You too sir.

**A/N: Review, if you would be so kind. ;)**


	2. Act 1, Scene 2

**A/N: Exams delayed this, and it is doubtless rushed and shoddy; may rewrite later. I would also like to reiterate that I am literate, and all overuses of "like" are purely in a satirical manner.**

**SETTING NOTE: This disguise rave (I know not if there are such things, call it artistic license) causes people to create their own avatars, and separate rooms are separate chats. Minor note but sort of useful.**

**In Private Instant Messaging conversation:**

**Juliet: **Hello Mother! You wanted to talk to me? :)

**MsCapulet:** Yes dear. Daddy and I have selected you a nice guy with heaps of cash. Isn't that great? Now, his name is Paris- remember Daddy mentioned him a while ago? Anyway, we need you to be as alluring as possible towards him; the deal is practically sealed. Isn't that great?

**Juliet:** I suppose, if that's what you want me to do, of course I will.

**MsCapulet: **Good girl. Now, I've got an appointment with a masseuse before the big party. Bye darling! xxxx

_MsCapulet has left the conversation._

**Meanwhile, in Clan Meeting Room 3... (Note: Alan exists purely to lol. We all know someone like that, right?)**

**Romeo: **Look, are u sure that all of this is a gd idea?

**Benvolio:** *you

**Romeo:** Shut up.

**Benvolio: **And *good. I think that's what YOU mean.

**Romeo:** Fine! Are YOU sure that all of this a GOOD idea?

**Mercutio:** Yes. Next question, please.

**Alan:** Lol.

**Jo:** Why, what's the matter Romeo?

**Romeo: **It's just...You'll just think I'm being stupid...

**Mercutio: **Spit it out. Could do with the amusement.

**Alan:** Lol.

**Romeo: **Well, I had this online horoscope thing, and it said that going to any major event would be a really bad idea this evening, and it'd lead to far more complications than anyone could realise, one that everyone would later regret and would lead to my inescapable tragic demise!

**Alan:** ...Lol.

**Benvolio:** Oh, do shut up Alan!

**Jo:** Right, we do think you're being stupid.

**Benvolio: **You set far too much store by these things. It's probably told everyone that; it's a robot. A computerised calculating machine. How does it know that going to a party- which by the way isn't very major in any plot- will ruin your life?

**Alan:** Lol.

**Jo:** I agree with Ben. Both about horoscopes AND the fact that Alan should stop the repetition of "lol".

**Mercutio: **Romi, it seems to me that you need some brotherly advice, so here's something I learnt the hard way.

**Benvolio: **Here we go again.

**Alan:** Lol.

**Jo:** Alan, desist. Lazy ass.

**Romeo: **I'm waiting.

**Mercutio: **Now, buddy, one day, I was playing some Super Mario, as you do. Or rather, as I do. Anyway, I was faced with a choice between two boxes to break open- a minigame, you know- so I decided I'd ask an online guru, one of those bots. And you know what? It got it wrong. In fact, the first answer made no sense, the second answer was the same, and it was only after three attempts that I got anything else. Even when I did, it was wrong. If it can't get it right after that many tries, it's pretty crap. But I do remember a tale of the boy who cried guru- there was this kid, on the internet, and he kept telling his parents that the horoscope said he'd soon be dead. Since they were damn superstitious, they tried to save him. They moved house, bought him presents, took him out of school. It was all going fine until, after he'd claimed this for the fifteenth time, something horrible happened.

**Romeo: **...What?

**Mercutio:** His computer overheated.

**Alan:** Lol.

**Benvolio:** Well done Alan, that was genuinely appropriate.

**Romeo:** Oh very #*king funny.

**Jo: **Got to love random swear-censors.

**Mercutio: **Nah, I bet he just typed that himself.

**Alan:** Lol.

_Benvolio/Mercutio: _Remind me again why we asked Alan to join us.

_Mercutio/Benvolio:_ Boost numbers. Besides, he can hack better than any of us.

_Benvolio/Mercutio: _But he is so woefully aggravating!

_Mercutio/Benvolio:_ Don't use your Tybalt language around me.

_Benvolio/Mercutio: _For the last time, it's nothing to do with his presence that makes me talk like that. I just happen to enjoy it.

_Mercutio/Benvolio:_ I'd argue that point, but we have stuff to do.

**Mercutio:** Now, back to the problem at hand. What names will we all use? We need to know to keep in contact. First thing we do when we get in there is buddy list one another, then go mingle.

**Jo:** I was thinking NinjaChi.

**Romeo: **John Smith.

**Alan: **Lol.

**Benvolio: **Very likely, Romeo.

**Mercutio: **Right, Romeo can be Vanitheros.

**Romeo:** Why?

**Mercutio: **It sounds about n00bish enough. And Alan can be 987654321.

**Alan:** Lol. Robitall.

**Benvolio:** Rob it all? Inventive.

**Jo:** I expected nothing less.

**Mercutio: **Ben?

**Benvolio: **I was contemplating Pentheus.

**Mercutio: **You'll get torn apart, but that's up to you. I'll be WarpPipe13.

**Alan: **Lol.

**Benvolio: **You and your Mario references.

_Benvolio/Mercutio: _At least we'll know what Alan is- he'll always be saying lol.

**Mercutio: **Mario IS classical. Everyone's avatars ready? Let's go. See you all on the other side.

_This chatroom has closed. All participants have left._

_**Welcome to DisguiseChat10! We hope you enjoy your party!**_

_NinjaChi, Vanitheros, Robitall, WarpPipe13 and Pentheus just became friends! Isn't that nice?_

**BossMan: **Welcome everybody! Remember, if you guess someone's true identity, don't blurt it out! Wouldn't want to be party p00pers, would we?

**Balcony 1 – WarpPipe13, Robitall and BieberFever are having a conversation!**

**BieberFever:** So then I was like, yeah, I totally have twenty grand on me right now.

**WarpPipe13:** And they didn't rob you?

**Robitall:** Lol.

**BieberFever:** I don't get robbed. No one's life is worth risking with such odds against 'em.

**Robitall:** Lol.

**BieberFever: **What an elegant one we've got here.

**WarpPipe13: **Good thing he's got somewhere else to be.

_WarpPipe13/Robitall:_ Stop stalling and get the *ck on with it!

_Robitall/WarpPipe13:_ Lol.

_Robitall has left this balcony._

_NinjaChi has joined this balcony chat! _

**BieberFever:** Why, hi!

**NinjaChi:** Hello.

**WarpPipe13:** So, guess we can't ask your name, right?

**NinjaChi:** That would make this whole thing a bit pointless.

**BieberFever:** So, uh, you like Bieber, ma'am?

_WarpPipe13/NinjaChi: _Keep him talking. Whatever it takes. I'll go hunt out mister Internet Horoscope.

**NinjaChi:** Of course! I mean, like, who doesn't?

_NinjaChi/WarpPipe13:_ Like fine, but only cos, like, it's really fun, like, to overuse the word like.

_WarpPipe13/NinjaChi:_ I am so gone. And just so you know, hitting my head on the keyboard to beat that word out of my vocabulary.

**BieberFever:** Like, I don't know! You want to dance, like now?

_NinjaChi/WarpPipe13:_ However will you manage without similes?

**NinjaChi:** Totally!

_WarpPipe13/NinjaChi:_ I'll use allegory. English nerd burn.

_NinjaChi/WarpPipe13:_ My metaphorical wrists will never be the same. Ow. The agony.

**NinjaChi and BieberFever have left to dance! Remember, right-click on your partner and select dance, then choose a style from the dropdown menu! And it needn't stop you talking!**

**WarpPipe13:** Take your information talks and shove them up your Jabu-Jabu.

**WarpPipe13 has left this balcony! What a shame!**

**Balcony 2 – LeatherJacket, Pentheus and Vanitheros are having a conversation!**

**LeatherJacket:** Hi everyone. Who've we got here?

**Pentheus:** There is not even the remotest chance that we will fall for that.

**LeatherJacket:** Never? Baby, you make me sad!

**Pentheus:** One cannot make an omelette without breaking eggs, can one?

**LeatherJacket:** I...suppose not.

**Vanitheros:** Breaking eggs reminds me of my soul.

**LeatherJacket:** Wow, cheery chappie here.

**Pentheus:** Oh, tell me about it. He's rather impossible to deal with, all things considered.

**Vanitheros:** Go ahead, lol at me. U know nothing of my inner toil.

**Pentheus: ***laugh *You *torment.

**Vanitheros:** *#k off, man!

**Pentheus:** I'm so frightfully sorry about him; he's not usually such an ass.

**Vanitheros:** Everyone here hates me. I know it. I wanna see Rosalie. Dude, you know where Rosalie is?

**LeatherJacket:** Don't I know you? And nice semi-colon there, buddy.

**LeatherJacket's notes:**

Benvolio: Found. Name: Pentheus.

Romeo: Found. Name: Vanitheros.

Mercutio: Not Found.

**Pentheus:** Thank you, kind sir. You'd be surprised how much mock I get for such things.

_LeatherJacket/BossMan:_ Uncle, I've found Romeo. He's intruding.

_BossMan/LeatherJacket:_ Oh, relax! He's not doing anything...

_LeatherJacket/BossMan:_ He's HERE! KICK HIM!

**LeatherJacket:** Really? That hardly seems fair, to punish a chap for eloquence...

_BossMan/LeatherJacket:_ How can you be sure?

_LeatherJacket/BossMan:_ No one can be that emo and NOT be him!

**Pentheus: **Exactly! Thank you! Someone else sees it!

_BossMan/LeatherJacket:_ You've just got a bee in your bonnet about this kid, and his friend Bill or whatever. Chill. I'm off to rave...

**Vanitheros:** Oh, enough with the *cking bonding already! I am out of here! Go dance around or whatever!

**Vanitheros has left this chat! What a shame!**

**Pentheus:** Sorry, he has...Well, he's...

**LeatherJacket:** An immature emo.

**Pentheus:** Can't argue with it.

**This silence has lasted more than two minutes! It is classified as mildly awkward! Why don't you go dance?**

**LeatherJacket:** This is the most sinister rave-site I have ever visited.

**Pentheus:** I completely agree.

**This silence has lasted more than three minutes! You need to get better at this! Why don't you discuss hobbies?**

_LeatherJacket/Pentheus:_ That voice is scaring me. You?

_Pentheus/LeatherJacket: _Petrified.

_LeatherJacket/Pentheus:_ I'd offer you a hug, but...you know, virtual and all that.

**This silence is still dragging! I sense Sexual Tension! Why don't you just get it all out into the open?**

_Pentheus/LeatherJacket:_ That could have been so much better phrased. So much better.

**LeatherJacket:** If I hear that voice one more time, I may have to exterminate it.

**Pop culture references! What a great start!**

**Pentheus:** ...It's not leaving.

**Pentheus:** ...Please tell me it's gone...

**LeatherJacket:** Quickly! We must leave this place, dramatically!

**Be safe!**

**Pentheus:** I completely agree with your statement, LeatherJacket!

**LeatherJacket:** Thank you for the clarification.

**Pentheus:** No problem.

**LeatherJacket:** Now, we dance.

**LeatherJacket and Pentheus have have left to dance! Remember, right-click on your partner and select dance, then choose a style from the dropdown menu! And it needn't stop you talking!**

**Balcony 7 – Princessa and Vanitheros are having a conversation!**

**Princessa:** Hello!

**Vanitheros:** Well Hi.

_Princessa/BossMan:_ Daddy, I think he's here.

_BossMan/Princessa:_ Brilliant! Go for it, girly!

**Vanitheros:** You- remind me of a girl I know on URPG.

**Princessa:** Ultimate Role Playing Game?

**Vanitheros:** What else?

**Vanitheros:** You play that at all?

**Princessa:** Whenever I have a spare moment!

**Vanitheros:** No way! TOO cool!

**Princessa:** I'm JuCess7.

**Vanitheros: **OMG! I'm RoMus!

**Princessa:** OMG! Really? That's so cool! I totally owe you for that time you saved me from that item-thieving-badger!

**Vanitheros:** Well, you know. All in a day's work for me.

**Princessa:** Oh. Really?

**Vanitheros:** I mean- no, I mean, well, trying to be humble. But you're definitely the one I'd enjoy rescuing most!

**Princessa:** You're sweet!

**Princessa has hugged you! Isn't that lovely?**

_BossMan/Princessa:_ Now, darling, I hope you've got the right chap! He's calling himself BieberFever. Got him?

_Princessa/BossMan:_ ...Oh. No, I haven't.

**Vanitheros:** You're too kind, my lady.

_BossMan/Princessa:_ Then go and get him! What're you playing at?

_Princessa/BossMan:_ But daddy, this guy's really sweet!

_BossMan/Princessa:_ You listen here, madam!

**Princessa has blocked BossMan. How awkward!**

**Princessa: **Sorry, my dad was badgering me.

**Vanitheros:** No problem. Know the feeling.

**Princessa:** Is yours as bad?

**Vanitheros:** Oh, awful. I could tell you a beastly story about him and my interest in bird watching.

**Princessa:** Please, go ahead!

**Back on the dance floor – LeatherJacket and Pentheus are getting on so well!**

**LeatherJacket:** I completely agree!

**Pentheus:** I'm glad to hear it! It's about time we won this war on the idiots!

**LeatherJacket:** It's my favourite blog. I couldn't believe it when they started flaming!

**Pentheus:** And insulting his spelling, despite the fact that they can't form the word "you".

**LeatherJacket:** Frankly, it's embarrassing.

**Pentheus:** It is! Why can't they see it?

**LeatherJacket:** I have no idea. They should be shut down.

**Pentheus:** Blocked.

**LeatherJacket:** Kicked.

**Pentheus:** If only.

**LeatherJacket:**If only indeed.

**Pentheus:** You know, I do believe you're my favourite person on this internet chat so far.

**LeatherJacket:** I'm deeply touched, and you're my favourite chap too.

**Pentheus:** Want to team up to take on the spammers?

**LeatherJacket:** If this avatar could grin, it would be.

**Pentheus:** That's a yes?

**LeatherJacket:** Oh yes.

**Pentheus:** So, I'll see you on there, right?

**LeatherJacket:** Yeah. You'll know which one I am.

**Pentheus:** Are you sure?

**LeatherJacket:** You will.

**Pentheus:** If you're sure...

**LeatherJacket:** Do you want me to send you my details, oh nervy one?

**Pentheus:** Please.

**LeatherJacket:** To be on the safe side, perhaps.

_Benvolio, you have email._

**Balcony 7**

**Princessa:** Really? I can't believe it! Oh, you poor man.

**Vanitheros:** Well, I put a brave face on it, you know.

**BossMan has entered the balcony.**

**BossMan:** Juliet! Get out there and find your fiancée!

**Princessa:** Dad! You just blew my cover!

**BossMan:** Go and find him!

_Princessa/Vanitheros:_ Quick, go, before he kicks you! I'll meet you in URPG- the market? Please?

_Vanitheros/Princessa: _Fine...I would endure being kicked for you!

_Princessa/Vanitheros:_ You're so sweet!

**Vanitheros has left the chat.**

**ANNOUNCEMENT: This party is over. All participants will now say goodbye. Five.**

**Four.**

**Three.**

**Two.**

**One.**

**This chat has now closed.**

**-One hour later-**

Juliet, unhappy creature, rested her forehead lightly against the screen, gazing blindly at the spot where Romeo (she even knew his name now! Oh, such a lovely name! How she loved that name! Just the sound of it was music to her ears! Paris meant nothing to her in face of such a name!) had stood.

Oh, woe. Woe, woe. Woe.

It was all so woeful.

The light-headed (or perhaps empty-headed) teenager swiped her hair back behind her ears, a sigh of wistful adolescent adoration sent fluttering across the room adorned with the typical decorations that parents might buy for girls who have always wished to be princesses. Adjusting her dressing-gown – it was three in the morning, and she was meant to be fast asleep – she finally summoned the presence of mind to hit to log off key, and watched as he screen faded from a mediaeval world to a dim, shaded and generic background picture. A full-size picture, clearly professionally taken, adorned the back of her bedroom door, showing her bright carrot-coloured hair – carrot is the best description, since it was neither genuinely ginger nor actually auburn, and strawberry blonde would be doing it an injustice. Some neon-orange effect seemed to have been used, but the roots, at least, were the same colour. Small blessings.

Flip-flops replacing slippers on her feet for no explicable reason, she pouted at the screen for at least twenty minutes. Life really was so unfair. They'd spent hours with her on the balcony, his character singing up at her, discussed the great sadnesses of life and finally some cyber contact.

How sad it was that they were destined to be forever lovers online, but ne'er to touch.

After all, relationships last forever, don't they? The girl mused, with an air of naivety and intentional ignorance, clicking on a bookmarked tab as she did so.

Agony Aunt. Affectionately known as The Nurse.

**Juliet:** Hi Nurse! You awake?

**Nurse:** Always, dearest. What's the trouble?

**Juliet:** Well, I found this great guy on the internet, but I think this might be for real, the one, and I haven't even really met him. Oh, and daddy hates him.

**Nurse:** Darling, falling in love on the internet is not very wise-

**Juliet:** I don't care! I love him! He loves me!

**Nurse: **Oh?

**Juliet:** He confessed it on URPG!

**Nurse:** Darling, please keep your head on straight. If he does love you, then ask to meet him, but take some friends.

**Juliet:** Yes! I'll meet him!

**Nurse:** Darling, promise me you'll take some friends? You will won't you?

**Nurse:** ...Juli? Promise you will...

**Juliet has ended this conversation.**

**Nurse:** Shit.

**New message Mercutio!**

**From Romeo:**

_Hey, buddy!_

_Isn't life wonderful? Isn't it just! Forget Rosalie man, this is the real deal. I'm going to love Juliet forever, you know that? Forever! I'm going to-to I'll bloody marry her! I will! You watch me! Be my best man, would you?_

_Love,_

_Romeo. x_

**New message Romeo!**

**From Mercutio:**

_Romeo, put the Ouzo down. Me and Ben are coming over._

**New message Mercutio!**

**From Romeo:**

_You were together? Did I interrupt? ;) So sorry._

**New message, Romeo!**

**From Mercutio:**

_Fuck off._

Romeo, lounging across two sofas (why he had two sofas was anyone's guess) was hauled to his feet by the surprisingly muscular arm of Mercutio, Mario merchandise jingling as ever. He even slept in them. Some might call that obsessed. As a contrast for those aware of the gaming universe, a plain shirt, not wholly buttoned, and a simple pair of tracksuit trousers, somehow adapted to include a picture of Ganondorf on the back (no one had even bothered to ask why yet, and Benvolio couldn't possibly do so without the inevitable retort of ass-obsession). The bedraggled Ben followed close behind- he had clearly only been asleep for a few hours, his sleepwear slightly less presentable than his normal attire, but straightened on his way in. Mercutio had insisted upon lending him his orange pacman jacket, since he was lacking one of his own when he left the house. Oh, and socks. Lacking those too. Casually lurking in the shadow of Mercutio as he glanced briefly at his other friend's predicament, he took the opportunity to cast an appreciative eye over Mercutio's arms.

A glance in the mirror prompted Ben to begin compulsively straightening his fringe. Neatness was important. Very important. First impressions could be made or broken as a result, and besides, his fringe was increasing the danger of his acne's return, or so his sister told him. Thank god for those miracle creams. But this concern for appearance was nothing to do with his new spamming-the-spammers buddy. A slight blush covered his features, and he hastily turned his attention back to the matter at hand. Mercutio's hand. Hm. Mercutio's hand.

A very nice hand it was too. Thick wrist, but not too thick, melding flawlessly into a hand neither too calloused nor too soft – not that Ben would know either way – and finger tapering into nails trimmed to a comfortable length. A slight tan, veins pale and indistinct beneath the skin and not a dent in his knuckles to be seen. Only a few hairs were visible, dark as those on Mercutio's head, flopping into his eyes as inconveniently as such fringes do. But of course, cutting it would mean losing the rogue style and havoc it seemed to revel in, and that would be a shame. Purely in a platonic aesthetic appeal sort of way.

Moving swiftly on...

Mercutio's tone was so authoritarian, but it was unlikely to have much effect on the boy whose sunglasses dangled from one ear, obviously far beyond the calls of reason, quavering as he lurched off the cliff of rational thought, plummeting towards the seas of total incoherence at the speed of, well, Ouzo. "Romeo, put the booze down."

"Be my best man!" So repetitive. The boy lurched forward a bit, unsteady on his feet and smirking like an idiot. His solid silver "bicycle" chain swung as he moved and he seemed to have divested himself of a shirt entirely, hanging over the arm of a chair. Another excellent question might be what he was doing in the living room, but that seemed irrelevant considering his flushed appearance and sliding footwork. His lower limbs covered with little more than shorts, barely bigger than underwear, the entire effect was that of a gangly nudist trying to swing into a nightclub whilst fighting a duel with his roller skates. No self-respecting bouncer would let him in. Pity that his parents were away. Pity they left Ouzo. Pity that the bastard was a wealthy one. The only possible attire he'd look more idiotic in, Benvolio smirked, was a suit. Suits were for people who were not Romeo. He didn't _suit_ them. Not with that "dusty" hair, or those designer denim shorts, torn in all the right places (where the wrong places were remained a mystery).

One rugby tackle later and Ben was somehow still in one piece. And standing! Quite the day for the record books. Might even blog about it later. It appeared that Mercutio had deliberately fallen away from the sofa to avoid wounding his ginger friend as the gangly moron somehow persuaded himself that lurching around like a wounded buffalo was the best way to coerce his friend into being his right-hand man at his utterly illegal internet wedding.

Romeo remained his drunken self, despite the sobering potential of crashing to the floor latched to your friend's knees. How very unfortunate. The boy couldn't be sobered with a shovel...Might be worth a try though. As Mercutio pushed him to one side, and gently refused Ben's offer of a hand – the lad wasn't particularly strong – his other friend resumed his babbling. "C'mon, I'm sorry I interrupted your sexy times-"

Mercutio leapt to his feet as though Romeo's babbling madness, garbled words and muttered innuendos were contagious. "We were NOT sleeping together!"

"'S fine! You're practically married- can't ya be my best man, Merc?" His voice had somehow become more slurred since the fall. Had the empty bottle of Ouzo somehow collided with his mouth and dropped a few more sips in? Ben was far too busy blushing furiously at the insinuation of sexual liaisons to notice a fiery "rash" (as Mercutio would later claim) latch itself onto Mercutio's neck and scramble up the side of his face, congregating in fiery patches on his cheekbones.

"We're not married. And you are 15. Too young to get married."

"Not online!" Romeo switched his pleas to Ben, and grabbed his foot in the equivalent of a headlock for lower limbs. A footlock? No, that sounded daft. "Ben! You'll be my best man, rights? Needn't worry about _you_ making out with my girl!"

Benvolio twisted out of his drunken friend's grasp a bit more violently than he'd wished. "Thanks." His word was venom. Pure, unadulterated venom. Mercutio watched the ginger from the corner of his eye, bothered by the abrupt change in tone this incoherent scrabbling was taking.

"Yeah, enough with the gay comments, Romeo. You're an ass."

As the two launched Romeo, abruptly asleep and cradling an empty bottle, in the direction of the sofa, a grateful smile was exchanged. Precisely when he fell asleep, neither was sure. Neither could they ask without admitting the time they'd spent watching each other rather than the idiotic drunkard's sprawling. His languid state of drunkenness was, oddly enough, a fairly accurate idea of a "stag" night for a 15-year-old to have.

Yawns spread from Ben to Mercutio like some sort of virus, but Ben refused to give in to sleep yet. It was always at times like this that he and Mercutio had conversations that he wished to repeat over and over- in a totally non-gay way. Purely friendship. A soft cushion under his head, and the presence of Mercutio at one end of the couch soon changed his mind on that score, and as Mercutio settled into place, a heavy weight dropped on top of him. After all, sleeping _on_ him was better than nothing.

"Why do I always have to play mother?" Mercutio muttered as he hauled Ben to his end of the sofa, purely to cover him with the blanket, naturally, and ignored the bleary smirks he was getting from the most immature of the three. The idiot in question slipped in and out of consciousness, muttering about a girl he'd met on the internet. Of course, both Mercutio and Benvolio were secure enough in themselves to share a blanket and an end of a sofa. Not a big deal.

"What a twat."

Somehow, despite his total surrender to sleep, the words penetrated Benvolio's dreams. How coincidental that such dreams were almost identical to the current reality! "Indubitably."

Of course, owing to the fact that vocal chords go on strike for the best part of the night, it came out more like "insudiba". A slight smile in response faded as Mercutio's muscles drooped, and his face burrowed into the cushions, already permeated with the scent of his friend, enabling him to relax into the sea of sleep. The Dead Sea, but a sea nonetheless. Drifting, never really sinking, but without the inconvenience of waking up covered in salt.

"Night Ben."

No answer.

The boy slept like a rock. A rock that somehow managed to take sleeping pills, and had hearing difficulties (most notably, the lack of ears).

**A/N: Review, please. Sorry again for the delay.**


	3. Act 2, Scene 1

**A/N: Yes, this is absurdly late. I know. Wish I had as much free time as these characters...**

**Romeo's email outbox:**

Dear Friar ,

Could you fix it for me to marry this girl on URPG that I really, really, really like? Please? We're both 15, but I've got money!

Thanks!

Romeo.

**Romeo's email inbox:**

Please select the most convenient centre, date and time from the options below, and transmit your payment via our website.

Regards,

Friar Lawrence.

**On URPG, a mediaeval world of pixellated knights and damsels:**

**JuCess7:** RoMus! I await you on my balcony, my sweet sweet darling!

**RoMus:** I am here, my sweeter honeybunny!

**JuCess7: **Wait- why is your avatar kneeling, dearest one? Is this-

**RoMus:** Marry me! I've organised it all! All you need to say is YES!

**JuCess7: **My dear Romeo!

_**It would appear that JuCess7 has leapt from the balcony. That's going to cost some health.**_

_**JuCess7 has respawned in her home location. Please return to her tower.**_

**RoMus:** I'm on my way, my love!

**The Nurse: Agony Aunt.**

**Nurse: **Now, what is this nonsense Juli?

**Juliet:** It's not nonsense! It's love and weddings!

**Nurse:** Juli, you must realise that's impossible.

**Juliet:** He would not lie to me! Don't be so silly!

**Nurse:** Well, darling, just tell me what you're planning.

**Juliet:** No! You'll try to stop us, and keep us apart!

**Nurse:** Can you blame me?

**Juliet:** Yes! Cruel!

**Nurse:** Look, I just need to make sure you're safe.

**Juliet:** I'm not talking to you anymore.

**Juliet has left the chat.**

**Romeo's iPhone:**

**To Juliet:**

_Darling ,_

_Emailed you all the deets for the wedding- hope you like them! Off to buy a ring, my darlingsnugglehoneybunny!_

_A thousand kisses more than is possible!_

_...Romeo!_

**Real Life: Romeo's Home.**

Somewhere between two and three hours after Romeo's taxi had arrived, honked loudly, made an incredibly jerky three-point turn and veered haphazardly out of sight, Mercutio's arm was jerked over the side of the sofa as the body it had been resting on conveniently (in no way half-hugging or any so ridiculous as "spooning") began to plunge towards the floor.

Reflexively, Mercutio's arm snapped back towards his body, hauling the heavy form with it, poised just teetering on the edge of the sofa. Equilibrium, as it were. Dark hair was swept aside from where it clung to his forehead with a limpet-like desperation, clearing a path for his eyes. Propping himself up on one elbow, he proceeded to roll Benvolio back onto the sofa. It hadn't really occurred to him how it would appear as he leaned over to retrieve his right hand, now wedged under his friend. Nor had he considered how close that would involve being, how suspicious the hand placement would look or how terrifying it might be to wake up with someone leaning over you.

A slight scrabbling beneath his back stirred Ben into a flickering semblance of waking.

Or so he thought at first. This idea was rather called into doubt at the sight of Mercutio's face quite so close to his, and the warmth of an arm rolled around his chest and resting in the small of his back.

As Ben's eyes opened, all the previous unconsidered implications slammed into Mercutio's mind with the force of particularly potent onion curry, if such a thing exists.

How incredibly awkward.

For a longer pause than either of them could excuse, neither made any attempt to move apart...

**53 minutes later:**

"Turn...erm, left here."

"You don't sound very sure."

"Look, I checked Google Maps before we left." Benvolio maintained, with a slight air of foolishness.

"After _I'd_ gone through the whole hacking business."

"After that, yes."

"I'm just your slave, aren't I?" Mercutio ignored the road for a moment, unleashing his ultimate pout on the ginger in the passenger seat.

"That could be misconstrued." Blushing furiously, Ben jabbed a finger forwards. "Keep your eyes on the road! You're breaking enough laws as it is, Mister fifteen-year-old driver."

A wink was the only response, which _could _be described as saucy but won't be owing to the likelihood of mutilation for anyone even attempting to attribute such a description to it.

Approximately five minutes later, signposts were proving reliable enough to render the map superfluous. Stashing it in the glove compartment, Ben was forced to undo his seatbelt and lean through to the back of the car to grab the "email confirmation" Mercutio had reprinted. Romeo intended to get married and, as decent friends, they had to save his sorry rear. Ben yelped as the car swerved slightly, coinciding inexplicably with the moment that Mercutio's arm rested against his.

"Watch it."

"Oh, you love the danger element really." Mercutio breezed as he circled the roundabout. His practiced ease made Benvolio seriously doubt that this whole "underage driving" thing was purely the occasional whim or marriage-related emergency. Naturally, he said nothing, opting for a slight snort of I'm-not-gullible-enough-to-believe-you-only-break-the-law-for-emergencies.

In response, Mercutio decided to up his game. "Just as you rather enjoyed waking up to the sight of me towering over you this morning."

Silence.

"If I recall correctly, it was _you_ who-" Benvolio stammered slightly, blood rushing to his face like physicists leaping upon a theoretical inconsistency.

Blue lights shot across the rear view mirror and Mercutio latched onto the other boy's trousers – only because the rest of his form was in the back of the car, _obviously_ – and hauled him back into his seat, managing to keep a steady course. "Seatbelt."

For a moment, a flash of disappointment might have glittered at the back of Benvolio's expression, but then again, maybe it didn't.

"So who was it who just took the opportunity to molest my rear end?"

Mercutio laughed. "You love it. No gay comment intended."

"Well, huzzah! One day I ought to note in my journal." Benvolio's expression faded slightly to a dull mask, and Mercutio cleared his throat as the police car rushes past, vanishing into the distance.

"For what it's worth, I don't half mind the way you talk. Or what you wear. It suits you." Hastily covering up this moment of sincerity with a pun, Mercutio smirked at his tweed-wearing counterpart. "I mean, suits suit, right?"

"Very droll." Beat. "But I most wholeheartedly appreciate the thought that accompanied that rather poor attempt at emotional sincerity."

Mercutio awkwardly cleared his throat again, for some reason feeling compelled to voice his opinions rather more freely than he would if Romeo was in the car. No prizes for guessing why. "And, you know, respect. Wish I could- you know...be...open and whatnot. Not in a sexual way, but you- yes. You know what I mean, right?"

Benvolio's mind took a surprisingly brief time to process this, but a far longer gap was needed to ensure he was not, in fact, purely dreaming, as this morning had suggested. A damn good dream, but a dream nonetheless. _It does not do to dwell on dreams...and forget to live_.

"Are- Am I to infer that you are choosing this moment to express your repressed sexual orientation?"

"Oh yes, old bean."

Benvolio could not remember having so much to ponder since the incident with the trigonometry textbook and Mongolian fruit pickers. Good times. To distract himself from the awkward silence that had formed a peculiar abyss between the two friends, Ben reached for his phone.

**Text conversation between Benvolio and "LeatherJacket" (Tybalt) [Benvolio's iPhone]:**

**Benvolio:** It hardly seems fair for me to freely give you my real name, purely to be denied yours in return. Am I to perpetually address you as "LeatherJacket"?

**LeatherJacket:** You may address me as T.

**Benvolio:** T? I fear you indulge too freely in spy films, good sir.

**LeatherJacket:** I could hardly say Mr T, could I? :P

_**LeatherJacket contact detail edited: name change to 'T' saved.**_

**Benvolio:** I suppose not, T.

**T:** You must forgive my anonymity, but it is a habit that is rather difficult to break. I have certain previous comments I seek to be disassociated from.

**Benvolio: **Ah. I suppose that is reasonable. I had assumed that you were choosing instead to be seen as a man of mystery and intrigue.

**T:** I need no such mystique to enhance the pull of my sexual magnetism.

**Benvolio:** Most amusing. I did not intend to imply that you did.

**T:** Oh? Didn't you, indeed? My magnetic field is rather substantial. None can escape the thrill of it, but very few can tame it for even moments.

**Ben:** Am I to assume that you are not referring solely to your attractiveness in the previous message?

**T: **That is entirely your choice. I but express the thought.

**Ben:** Then I think I shall consider you witty rather than spermatic.

**T:** Darling, please! Would you have me faint, you saucy minx?

**Ben:** I meant _traumatic! _I must apologise- my phone adjusted the word without my consent!

**T:** The nerve! But I'd imagine that gaining your good will is a task any phone would be unable to achieve. ;)

**Ben:** I'm not even sure that's innuendo.

**T:** But can you deny that it's making you uncomfortable? For a moment, all is well, and then the hidden meaning rises up to stare you eye-to-eye...

**Ben:** Are you finished?

**T:** Oh, what a question.

**Ben:** I did not mean it in such a manner, and you know it!

**T:** No need to get so prickly about it.

**Ben:** Your jokes are very poor.

**T:** Yet, on some level, they amuse you. Deny it.

**Ben: **Why would poor jokes amuse me?

**T: **Come now, I can tell that you're grinning.

**Ben:** Preposterous.

**T: ** I would love to see this through, but I have somewhere to be, so I must reluctantly bid you farewell.

**Real life: Still in the car. Time to destination: 15 minutes.**

Mercutio might have most of his attention on the road, but his peripheral vision was concentrated elsewhere. It was hardly surprising that the conversation had died. Where exactly had he been planning to take it anyway? Come out to your best friend then immediately ask him to accompany you somewhere corny without specifying whether or not this was on a friendly or more-than-friendly basis? Pathetic.

Verily; only an incredibly pathetic person would feel jealous of a mobile phone. Stupidly jealous. But then, there _was _someone at the other end of the conversation, making Ben's cheeks grow ruddy and lips twitch with silenced laughter.

Pathetic.

Eyes on the road. Traffic. Danger. Driving. Focus.

Line of sight happens to glance across. A glimpse of a smile. Blush fading.

Pathetic.

Benvolio locked his phone and slipped it into a pocket, hoping that the blush had faded from his face. Mercutio might want to know the joke, and then where would he be? He'd have to explain his texting friend. For some reason, discussing innuendo (or, more accurately, being taunted by repeated attempts at the same) with a stranger seemed more personal than he'd intended it to be. Some part of his mind muttered something about using such in conversations with his best friend, but he baulked at the notion. Just because his friend declared his sexual preferences did not give Ben the right to abruptly attempt a seduction of the unfortunate Mercutio.

Highly inappropriate.

Then why was he still considering it?

'_Til now, I always got by on my own. I never really cared until I met you..._

Benvolio was convinced that ringtone had not been half as loud when he'd set it up, and scrabbled for his phone as Mercutio chuckled quietly, unable to resist glancing across.

_And now it chills me to the bone...How do I get you alone?_

"Hello? Jo? Yes, I'm- ah. My most humble apologies, it's just troublesome Romeo. Well...it's nothing... I fail to see why my word merit immediate scepticism! You can't even see my visage, you devious creature! ...It is not a defence mechanism; what utter rot!"

"Oh Benny, it is." Mercutio interjected. Jo's chuckle billowed out of the phone.

"I see." Her voice carried a strain of gentle mockery that tends to grow within families.

"No you do not." Benvolio's face burned again. "No- don't you DARE tell mother such falsehoods! You're talking absolute piffle- ex-extrapolating! ...We are on a quest to locate Romeo; he's planning to get married to some girl off the internet- that was not scorn! ...No, it wasn't directed specifically at the girl! I'm not sexist!- Yes. Fine. Perfectly willing. ...Kindly speak more quietly- thank you. Yes, thank you for the sisterly advice but I do not anticipate- Gerald thinks _what_? Look here, he's _your_ father! I don't care a pin if it's not in the family spirit! ...Fine, I apologise. Yes, you did rather touch a nerve, actually. My fault, clearly." Sigh. "Yes. Love to mother and Gerald." Chuckle. "Not to _you_. Don't be so silly. Goodbye."

"Having fun, is she?" Mercutio smirked. "I'm surprised she trusts me to look after you in real life when she doesn't in disguise raves."

Benvolio shrugged. "She's an odd creature."

"Women, eh?"


	4. Act 2, Scene 2

The silver Mercedes veered into a space in the church car park, narrowly avoiding a particularly malevolent tree stump and several spiky bushes.

Benvolio stepped out of the car, treading carefully to avoid the puddles that had accumulated in the gaps where tarmac should have been. Mercutio, being of a far more impulsive nature, stepped out without so much as a cursory glance. His trainers were immediately engulfed by the stagnant water, and Benvolio darted around the car in response to the yelp of surprise...

"It gave me a shock!" Mercutio grumbled, digging his hands further into the pockets of his coat, black and prone to billowing, with a faint "XIII" stitched into a lapel.

"It's _muddy water_! I thought something far more drastic had happened!"

"It's probably been there for years! It's halfway to quicksand!" Mercutio pouted and followed Benvolio towards the church, locking the car with a backward jab of the remote. "It's not my fault it gets dark early!"

"It is five twenty-two." Benvolio didn't glance back at his friend as he strode through the neglected churchyard with a slight feeling of trepidation. "We left at one thirty-seven. That is almost _four_ _hours _in a _car_."

Mercutio sighed. Ben tended to get edgy after being in a car for even half an hour. Breaking into a jog, he drew level with his friend in time to hold him upright as a paving stone separated entirely from the rest of the path, revealing a deep rabbit hole.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Romeo isn't worth a broken leg."

As they neared the door, the typically chilling air of the church seemed to hang in the porch, a cobweb of chilly foreboding. Mercutio placed a hand on the other boy's shoulder, halting his progress, and then proceeded to shove open the heavy wooden door with the other hand. Benvolio, feeling slightly daft standing just outside the building, strode in with a purposeful tread; Mercutio paused for only a few seconds before following, his hand clenched as though attempting to preserve the warmth of Ben's shoulder for as long as possible.

The church seemed little more than a square room with incredibly thick walls. Few inscriptions were legible although the entire floor was constructed from plaques for the dead. Carved stones stretched halfway up the back wall before coming to an abrupt, mossy halt. An empty hook and fraying rope echoed the shape of a bell, now only visible underneath a large woollen sheet in a corner crowded with cheap plastic chairs and colouring pencils- Sunday school, perhaps. The pews creaked without any apparent provocation. The altar alone shone slightly in the light from a plain arch; only one window pane prevented the wind from whistling straight into the building. Moth-eaten rugs struck a stark contrast with the fresh, gleaming white of the altar's coverlet and small collection of glittering ornaments.

"Hello?" Mercutio caught sight of a figure to the left, peering around a door that presumably led into some other chamber. "We're looking for Friar Lawrence...?" His voice trailed off as the walls seemed to repeat his question in their own voices, and Benvolio instinctively took a step back towards his friend.

The figure opened the door wider and gestured with a hand. "Come on in! Don't mind this- it'll be sorted by Christmas, so the Lord tells me. Don't believe him meself, but what can be done, really? Just gotta wait, ain't we?"

Slightly disturbed, Benvolio noted tassels on the man's sleeve. What on earth were they getting themselves into?

Entering the next room with a log fire, thick carpets and proper stained windows, Mercutio grinned. This was much more like it.

Of course, glancing at the "Friar" merely made him want to laugh.

It appeared that Elvis wasn't dead after all. Brilliant.

"So, what're your names then, young 'uns?"

Mercutio introduced them as Benvolio's face became a mask beyond which horror and shock were the prominent emotions.

The Friar seemed to notice and laughed heartily. "Don't mind these, lad, had a novelty wedding last. Pair of peculiar kids from some online 'rpg'", he said the three letters as if conjoined, "wanting to get hitched. Give us a mo."

He scribbled something on the paper in front of him, and vanished from sight for a few minutes. Mercutio took the opportunity to stand nearer the fire, warming his hands. "Ah. Lovely warmth." The words were mostly a casual note for his friend, but Ben did not reply.

The minutes passed in silence. Benvolio's faze swept around the room, bemused by the contrast between this room and the rest of the church. Only once the "Friar" returned looking far more like a vicar than Elvis were Benvolio's notions appeased.

"Sorry about that- I forget sometimes, ya know? Anyway, always wanna make people comfortable, right?"

Benvolio made some non-committal noise.

"Anyway, how long've you two known each other? Quite a while, I bet."

Mercutio and Benvolio exchanged glances, and the former nodded in vague acquiescence. "Yes, quite a few years. How many is it now?" He directed the question at his friend, who still seemed highly suspicious.

"Too long?" Benvolio attempted a joke, with a slight upward inflection. "But at least eight years."

Friar Lawrence beamed. For once, these two had actually known each other for a significant period of time! It was delightful! He was sick of young people barging in, demanding marriage services when they were less concerned with knowing each other than defying their parents and all that... Half the time, they only knew each other by aliases! Sickening. He needed the money though; God was not very generous with his earthly rewards, it had to be said. "So, what're ya favourite hymns?"

Puzzled by the question, Benvolio glanced across at Mercutio, who shrugged. "I don't suppose I have a particular favourite. Ben's fond of that...um, Jerusalem one?"

The Friar made a note of this with a smile on his face. They seemed at ease with one another, at least. None of that pubescent gushing that made him want to call upon the power of God to strike them dumb. It made such a change from whirlwind internet romances which would fall apart in mere moments; more like Christian charity than selling his soul to the economy.

"Well, it's not crucial, of course. Most people don't bother with them at all, an' with three of us, it ain't gunna be all that splendid, unless there are more of ya comin'?"

Oh crikey. The man probably thought they were his congregation. He was even expecting them to _sing_! Was it too late to escape Evensong? Benvolio attempted to catch Mercutio's eye and pass on his suspicions, but the other boy was far too preoccupied with scanning through psalms. Didn't he realise he was hauling them into a service? Fool!

"Not as far as I know, Friar. You _are_ Friar Lawrence, sir?" Benvolio attempted to keep his tone light, and the Friar burst out laughing.

"Sir? Lawrence is me name, but I ain't even been called "sir" before."

Mercutio chuckled. "Oh, he does that. It's adorable really."

His counterpart flushed. Adorable. He was not adorable, usually. But it was somehow gratifying for Mercutio to call him such, although it didn't stop his ears from burning.

Friar Lawrence chuckled heartily again and leant back in his chair. "Well, it's a bloody nice change, to be sure, to marry two people who've known each other for some length o' time!"

Mercutio's eyes ceased scanning the hymnbook. Benvolio's eyes fixed on a spot over the Friar's shoulder.

Awkward.

Simultaneously, as though a flag had been waved at the start of a race, the two began to blurt out objections. "No, we're not- I mean, we're just-" Ben began, losing steam partway through and stammering as every word seemed to mutate and rebel against his vocal chords.

Mercutio blurted out a babble of protestations in so confusing a manner that no one could either understand or attempt to transcribe them.

Friar Lawrence chortled happily; they'd both turned incredibly pink.

With the chuckles of Lawrence still echoing in their ears, the two intrepid chaps left the church, an awkward silence stalking their every move like some sinister bloodhound. Apparently Romeo and Juliet had demanded directions to the nearest cheap hotel, and the Friar had recommended a B&B run by his cousin. It was twenty minutes' journey, but did "bloody good food".

"We'll be lucky to get there for quarter past six, ya' know." Mercutio grinned, mimicking the accent, coercing a smile from Ben.

"Then we'd better get a move on and stop arsing around with accents."

Feigning shock at Benvolio's break from "larking", Mercutio once more unleashed his driving skills upon the world at large.

**At the B&B: 6.17pm.**

"Excuse me- so sorry to bother you; are a Mr and Mrs R Montague staying here? He's my younger brother, and I've been trying to find him for hours." Mercutio turned on the 'charm' as a motherly-looking woman with a glint of steel in her eyes opened the door.

"No, but they didn't half try to be! I asked them for ID I did, and what did 'e say to me? Downright cheeky devil, with his ripped jeans and that. I told him to give me the ID and he said "I'm 15, I don't have any"! Would you believe it! And I told him then there's no room for him here, and he didn't 'alf get funny about it! All this effing and blinding, and the lass that was with him got most frightfully haughty, the little madam, so she did! But I told 'em straight- either you're 18 or you ain't getting a double room here! Illegal, it is. I told them! I told 'im, and I told 'er, and they stalked off all in a strop like a right pair of kids, so they did! If they thought this was the sorta place for that sorta thing they're much mistaken, ain't they?"

Mercutio silently thanked his foresight in leaving Ben napping in the car. He'd always hated people saying "ain't".

"Thank you madam. I'm sure my parents will be heartily relieved and gratified to hear it, as indeed am I." He smiled, flattering her. "They are awfully worried; he's always been a bit of a tearaway."

"The youth of today! I mean, you're obviously a nice enough lad, but there are so many of 'em that just doss around, ya know! Then they turn up 'ere and they've only got _that_ on their minds- but thank ye very much young man, an' I'll keep an eye out for 'em! If they-"

"You are incredibly kind, madam. I must be off- my mother will be wondering where I've got to. I left her in the car; she's not a very good walker these days."

"Oh, the poor dear!"

"Yes, it makes my brother's disobedience all the worse, I'm afraid. She blames herself, you see. I keep telling her, if anyone's to blame, it's his peers." Mercutio fixed his expression of woe firmly in her memory before reassuming his courteous grin. "But thank you so much for your help."

With a few more civilities and well-wishing of his "invalid mother" being called after him in the darkness, Mercutio waved and climbed back into the car.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Ben snapped the instant the door swung shut, glaring at Mercutio with a force unparalleled, noses only an inch or so apart as the temporary door-is-open light began to fade.

Mercutio couldn't resist the opportunity, and poked Benvolio's nose with his own in what he had been informed was an 'Eskimo kiss'.

"Because darling, you looked far too adorable." As Benvolio's face grew pinker in the dim light of the dashboard, Mercutio started the car. "Now, let's find another hotel."

**7.55 pm. Small hotel in town centre.**

"Beeeeeen..." Mercutio whinged, barely managing to keep the smirk off his face. "I'm tired! We've checked seven hotels and a brothel! A brothel, Benny! I'm scarred for all eternity!"

Ben scowled. "It was not a brothel. You know as well as I do that it was an old age pensioners' bingo night, you ageist knave."

Mercutio burst into chuckles for a moment. "Oh, it was a brothel, you adorably naive Benny. It's all just a _front!"_ Conveniently, he was able to gesture at the _front_ of the unassuming and civilised hotel they intended to stay in.

Benvolio raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the hotel. "Come on."

As his friend made no attempts to move, he grabbed him by the front of his coat and hauled him out of the car, slipping the keys into his own pocket as he locked up. "Now, we're going to get a room-"

"I say! You haven't even had the gallantry to buy me a meal, you cad!"

"I was about to suggest it." Benvolio puffed himself up and failed to scowl. "We can hunt them down in the morning."

Grinning, Mercutio gently poked him in the ribs with an elbow. "You know, if we'd taken up the Friar's offer to marry us, this would be our wedding night." He clasped his hands together in a girly affectation, delighting in the slight wince Benvolio failed to disguise as his voice echoed around the hall, down to the reception desk to delight the two young women there. Mercutio continued as if he hadn't noticed, but Benvolio began to walk faster in the hopes that he might generate enough wind to sweep away his friend's resonant tones.

"In fact, I'd be carrying you like this!" Carried away by his own "joke", Mercutio tackled the other boy and attempted to carry him in a typical bridal fashion. Alarmed, Ben managed to keep one foot on the ground, but was forced to concede a small victory by wrapping an arm around Mercutio's neck for balance.

"Put me down. This is most undignified, not to say _inappropriate_." It struck Benvolio as only typical, considering the mockery that fate clearly wished to make of his life, that the girls at reception, now openly giggling and partway to emitting some manner of "squee" noise, bothered him more than the posture itself.

The dark-haired boy smirked. "Give us a kiss then."

For a second, Benvolio considered it.

Mercutio watched the thought flicker across his friend's face. Taken aback, he soon found himself bereft of Benvolio, who was now straightening his jacket and approaching the chuckling females.

"Hello, we'd like a room, please?"

Benvolio's face combusted (perhaps not literally, but it certainly felt pretty damn like it) as he realised that was the worst thing he could possibly have said. Mercutio's arm lingering on his shoulders only served to make things worse. His 'charming' grin was met by a swift increase in the girls' decorum, and previous giggling vanished, to be replaced with amiable or even jocose service.

"Of course sir." The taller girl proceeded to list the available options, focusing on double rooms, much to Ben's embarrassment.

Mercutio quickly tired of attempting to break through the businesslike facade that had overtaken the conversation, and rested his elbow on the reception desk, his chin upon his palm, watching Benvolio but not listening to any of the gobbledegook.

"Excuse me?" A tentative voice startled him back to reality, and his head flicked to the left. The other young woman seemed to have summoned a manager or someone, and he smiled in a similarly amiable fashion.

"...Yes?" Mercutio's reply was somewhat wary.

"Our hotel would like to present both of you with a free drink, whenever you have time."

A startled Mercutio graciously accepted the offer, and the man vanished back into the bowels of the hotel.

"We...well, it can't be easy. People can be so prejudiced about- these things." The remaining young woman smiled awkwardly. "We just think you're both so terribly brave!" She looked almost on the brink of tears. Mercutio failed to see quite what they had done to provoke such a response, and kept his face carefully genial but blank as she continued to speak. "And you look so...happy together, it's just so...lovely. We don't usually get honeymooners here- we're too close to the centre, it seems."

Mercutio might have been tempted to scorn her remarks, but the marvelling clarity of her face left no room for mockery. With an awkward laugh, he nodded respectfully to her, cursing his tendency to pick up Benvolio's habits. "Thank you. It means a lot to us."

Matters were not helped when, upon arriving in their room, the double bed could not be separated. Neither boy mentioned how much better they felt when sleeping in the other's company, but it was not far from either mind for the rest of the evening.

Mercutio nudged his friend, a smirk bursting to the surface of a previously serious visage. "They think we're a couple. In fact, they think we're married. We've been invited for a free drink!"

"What? And you accepted? That's just...t-taking advantage of kindness!"

"No it isn't! They assumed! Besides, apparently we look very happy together."

"But we're not married!"

"I know! But at least if we did get married, it would make more sense than Romeo and his RPG girl." Mercutio flashed a grin at his friend, whose mild horror melted abruptly, his gaze shifting to the nearest object that was not attached to Mercutio.

"Most things would, surely."

Slightly dejected, Mercutio flicked through his phone applications and opened up twitter. Even if Benvolio was going to ignore this golden opportunity, he had no intention of doing so.

**New Tweet!**

**MercBerk: **Just married BenTheSuit! I know, it's taken forever, but schnoocie and I wanted the element of surprise!

When room service arrived, the drinks not charged in the sort of kind gesture that evoked incredible guilt in Benvolio, Mercutio's phone seemed to achieve some semblance of life, beeping and violently leaping from the desk as notifications attacked in droves.

"What, in the name of Dickens, is responsible for that incessant noise?" Ben's voice lacked authority or real anger, although his curiosity was starting to get the better of him, to the extent that he broke his habit (drilled into him almost from birth) of not using his telephone at the "table". Technically, his conscience argued, it wasn't a table. It was a trolley. Technicalities.

Opening up his friend's twitter feed - bookmarked solely for convenience, naturally - his eyes were drawn immediately to the latest tweet. Thirty retweets? Mercutio's followers had..doubled! How?

"What...What is the meaning of this?"

Mercutio smirked. "It's just a joke Benny! But look at this! We're being congratulated by people we don't even know! Look at the followers, the retweets! Who knew this "real life yaoi" was so popular?"

"Do you even know what yaoi means?"

"Adorableness?"

"No."

"Relax Ben! It's fine! It's just a lark, right?"

Benvolio might have detected a slight hesitancy in the last sentence, but he brushed the thought aside as wishful, at best.

Within half an hour, it was irrevocable. The stream of "mentions" "retweets" and the beginnings of a "trend" (it was to be called either Mercolio or Bencutio; the debate continued) was unstoppable.

"I fear this joke has now become internet fact."

Mercutio laughed, unable to wipe the grin from his face. "Don't you see? That's what's hilarious!"

Benvolio did not share his cavalier view of the phenomenon and briefly checked that no one he knew was following him. As it appeared to be entirely the product of random internet people, he found himself less disturbed by the idea. In all honesty, he was having trouble being even slightly disturbed by the idea.

All the same...

**BenTheSuit: **I am not married to MercBerk. His idea of humour borders on the bizarre.

As he had expected, the only responses to this statement were messages of support, encouragement, overuse of the word (in the loosest possible sense) "squee" and the occasional attempt at humour.

Mercutio pouted, waiting for Ben, face furrowed into lines of concentration, to glance up from his phone,. "I'm deeply wounded Benny. _Deeply wounded_."

"It's just a joke, you said." Ben did not look up. If he looked up...he was a "goner".

"And you just ruined it! You'd think you didn't love me!" The pout remained in full force, and Benvolio's head flicked up for just long enough... Curses. The floppy black hair flicked across his friend's face, hiding the twinkle of jest in his eyes, presenting an astonishingly lugubrious expression.

"Oh, very well then." The immediate swtich to a glowing countenance delighted Benvolio, not that he would ever admit that. "But only for the "lols", mind you."

Mercutio's hysterical laughter resulted in an attack of the hiccups, during which Benvolio took the opportunity to tweet another statement and delete the previous one.

**BenTheSuit:** I am indeed married to MercBerk. Apologies for any confusion.

Summed it up rather nicely, in Ben's opinion.

Send.

Click.

BOING! NOTIFICATION!

"Happy now?"

As Benvolio switched his phone off, and Mercutio's was hastily muted, a barrage of congratulations battered his notification noise into oblivion.

"Indubitably."

**Meanwhile...**

Tybalt smirked at the screen. As if Benvolio would marry that aggravating, Mario-loving games-addict. That would be foolish.

**New Tweet!**

Ah.

That was...

Quite the surprise.

It would appear that he had miscalculated.

That bastard.

That Mario-loving bastard.

The anger Tybalt felt seemed disproportionate to the crime, but when had that ever hindered him?

Mercutio would suffer for this...this...theft!

Soon.

**IMPORTANT NEWS: Would appreciate your help - don't worry, it's nothing strenuous! If you add some manner of congratulatory "tweet" into a review (or as a review, it needn't have a comment with it if you don't feel like it) I shall include it in the next chapter! I intend to make this into a running joke of sorts, so the more congratulations the better! Shall attribute the quotes to your user name, unless you object strenuously to such, in which case, include the "name" of your "tweeter" with the comment. Sound fun? **

**Thank you.**


	5. Act 3, Scene 1

**A/N: Cutting down on RL in this chapter- very Twitter-centric; apologies to any Non-Twitterers/twits/whatever the correct expression for "Twitter Users" is. And sorry, it's a long one.**

"Mercutio, what is that basket in aid of?"

"It's a picnic!"

"So I see."

"Then I'd assume the purpose was rather obvious, wouldn't you, Benny?"

Benvolio sighed, shuffling slightly to catch his friend's eye from his position curled up in bed, half-asleep and distinctly bemused. "And what precisely prompted this?"

"An idea, Ben-ben! An idea!"

Chuckling slightly, Benvolio took a few gulps of water to clean his palette of drowsiness (he didn't remember getting water the night before, but was hardly going to object). Taking this as a signal to continue, Mercutio wasted no time.

"Picnics and woodland walks! I mean, it just screams honeymooners! So it's precisely what Romeo and Juliet are likely to be doing! It's just ideal. We shall outthink them with our _cunning!_ Sheer cunning, Ben-Ben!" Beat. "Also, the staff here will love it." Mercutio's internal monologue began an entirely different list of reasons revolving around his friend, but he ignored it.

Refusing to quantify his mild delight at the suggestion, Benvolio merely nodded. It was, after all, better than nothing. "But enough with the nickname."

Mercutio grinned as he slid out of the room to fetch food while Ben got what he termed "ready" and Mercutio described as "overdressed".

**A short while later:**

**Boing! Koru has tweeted at you, BenTheSuit!**

**Koru: "**_Congratulations BennySchmennyyyyy~~when will you guys...you know...;)))_**"**

Benvolio's face flushed red, and Mercutio burst into hysterical but equally nervous laughter, which Ben did not notice as he desperately attempted to form a response, stopping in his tracks to do so.

Mercutio grinned fondly. The ability to text and walk had never been Ben's best attribute. Fortunately, they'd stopped just short of the road.

"Come along, Benny-Schmenny." Mercutio chuckled, sneaking his arm through Benvolio's with a pleased smirk on his face. Ben did not object...

This soon changed as the sound of "Lovefool" bellowed out of a nearby shop, which _naturally_ resulted in the taller boy attempting to serenade the ginger. "Stop it!"

"But Benny! Reason will not reach a solution; I will end up lost in confusion! I don't care if you really care-"

Breaking free of his friend's arms, Ben scowled at him. "Then, equally, I care not if you serenade me in public."

"I was only joking."

"...I know."

* * *

**Twitter Feed:**

**MercBerk:**Just married BenTheSuit! I know, it's taken forever, but schnoocie and I wanted the element of surprise!

**BenTheSuit:**I am not married to MercBerk. His idea of humour borders on the bizarre. _Tweet deleted._

**BenTheSuit:** I am indeed married to MercBerk. Apologies for any confusion.

**Koru:** **BenTheSuit **Congratulations BennySchmennyyyyy~~ when will you guys...you know... ;))))

**BenTheSuit:** **Koru** I am not going to discuss such things on the internet, even if-which we aren't! No.

**MercBerk:** **Koru** ;) Whenever I finally succumb to **BenTheSuit**'s amorous advances.

**AlanAlan: BenTheSuit MercBerk** lol.

**BenTheSuit: ****Koru** Ignore **MercBerk**. He's quite delirious. And egotistical too. Very much so.

**MercBerk:** **BenTheSuit** and I'm sure that one as discerning as **Koru** can guess quite why... ;)

**AlanAlan: MercBerk** Lol

**BenTheSuit:** **MercBerk** STOP ENCOURAGING **Koru**! We've talking about this!

**BenTheSuit: AlanAlan** Shut up.

**MercBerk:** **BenTheSuit** It's not encouragement, it's the truth :P And marriage is all about concessions.

**MercBerk:** Has just been tackled by **BenTheSuit**...

**MercBerk:** Yes, I did mean that sexually.

**BenTheSuit:** **MercBerk** No you didn't.

**MercBerk:** Oh yes I did, darling **BenTheSuit**. Now kindly return my trousers ;)

**BenTheSuit:** **MercBerk **I am not in possession of your trousers. Kindly cease stealing mine as "compensation".

**MercBerk:** **BenTheSuit** Oh, darling! As if that's the ONLY reason I'm removing your garments!

**BenTheSuit:** **MercBerk** What was that about MY amorous advances?

**MercBerk:** **BenTheSuit** Well, if you're going to get bipolar about it...

**Socks-In-The-Mirror:** **BenTheSuit MercBerk** It's about time...Congratz you two!

**BenTheSuit: Socks-In-The-Mirror** Thank you. We didn't want to rush things.

**MercBerk: Socks-In-The-Mirror** Or to put it another way, I finally chose to accept **BenTheSuit**'s offer.

**MercBerk: Socks-In-The-Mirror BenTheSuit** was asking me allllllll the time, you see. Very persistant.

**BenTheSuit: Socks-In-The-Mirror MercBerk** Piffle! I was doing no such thing!

**MercBerk: Socks-In-The-Mirror BenTheSuit** EVERY SINGLE DAY, would you believe it?

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** I wouldn't. You are hyperbolic!

**MercBerk: Socks-In-The-Mirror** All the cards, flowers, chocolate...A particularly racy letter...A shiny black horse...#mytruelovegavetome

**BenTheSuit: Socks-In-The-Mirror MercBerk** Did not exist. None of that existed. None of that happened. Slander.

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** is being faaaaar too modest, I feel. However, I do know exactly how to distract him ;)

**MercBerk:** There we go. Only took a few minutes. And yes, feel free to interpret that HOWEVER you may like ;)

**FadedImitationI: **AWWW Ash look at this! They are so adorable~! **BenTheSuit MercBerk**

**MercBerk: FadedImitationI** Thank you. xD But who is Ash?

**MercBerk:** So, where was I...Ah, yes. **BenTheSuit**'s pursuit of me!

**MercBerk:** Now, this horse was quite spectacular- I'd had one when I was younger, you see. Called it Graham.

**MercBerk:** The old one was Graham, I mean. Now this new one- what else could I call it, I thought...

**MercBerk:** Of course, I decided that there was no better name for my steed than **BenTheSuit**

**MercBerk:** I mean, not "BenTheSuit" but Benny boy's name is the one I selected.

**MercBerk:** Never stopped being amusing. "I'm just off to ride Ben!"

**MercBerk:** Some fantastic misunderstandings started there. Now, of course, they were not misunderstandings, but prolepsis.

**BenTheSuit:** Now that I have escaped from **MercBerk**'s clutches- he was lying on me – and retrieved my phone, hello!

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** Damn right I was ;) But waaaay to ruin the mystery...

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** It wasn't like that and you know it! You rugby tackled me and stole my phone. You then pinned me down!

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** In a damn unattractive fashion, I may add!

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** ;) Not ALL of you holds that opinion.

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** This is TWITTER! Kindly desist with your pathetic...references.

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** You're right- I'll save them for those long cosy nights we have ahead of us...

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** You really are utterly adorable when you blush.

**NinjaChiJo: MercBerk **I agree. My little brother really is rather sweet. Aren't you **BenTheSuit**?

**MercBerk: NinjaChiJo** OMGZ, YOU HAS TWITTER! WE MUST LIKE, HAVE EPIC SISTER-IN-LAW DAYZ!

**NinjaChiJo: MercBerk** Like, totally, like, blates! A somance is here!

**MercBerk: NinjaChiJo** Like Bromance, right? Nice. #effyeah

**BenTheSuit: NinjaChiJo **I am not adorable.

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** Stop fraternising with the enemy.

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit **Aw, you know I love when you get all authoritarian :P And it's not FRATernising, it's SISernising.

_**NinjaChiJo just retweeted MercBerk's tweet!**_

**NinjaChiJo: RT "**Aw, you know I love when you get all authoritarian :P And it's not FRATernising, it's SISernising." #Bencutio

**MercBerk: NinjaChiJo** So, you're on the Bencutio-pairing-name-side rather than Mercolio?

**NinjaChiJo: MercBerk** Obviously.

**BenTheSuit: NinjaChiJo** Sis, don't encourage him.

**NinjaChiJo: BenTheSuit** Hey, don't you demand things from me, mister! WHERE WAS MY WEDDING INVITATION?

**NinjaChiJo: BenTheSuit** Hell, I didn't even know you were dating! AFTER ALL THE ALCOHOL I BOUGHT YOU!

**NinjaChiJo: BenTheSuit** All the sleepovers when I was the responsible adult! I told YOU about my crushes!

**BenTheSuit: NinjaChiJo** We were...It just happened!

**NinjaChiJo: BenTheSuit **And even when I knew- the whole damn world knew – that you liked him, still you pretended you didn't!

**BenTheSuit: NinjaChiJo **OK, no domestics on Twitter.

**NinjaChiJo: BenTheSuit** Fine! But your inbox is going to need some serious extra storage!

* * *

**Benvolio's Personal Messaging:**

**Jo: **SERIOUSLY! MUM IS GOING TO BE SO PISSED AT YOU! I can understand you not inviting MY dad, but your OWN MOTHER? What about YOUR Dad! Was he there? YOU EVIL CHILD!

**Ben:** It's a JOKE! Jo, it's all a JOKE!

**Jo: **W.T.F?

**Ben:** Romeo has married the internet girl and we managed to track down the church, setting of the aforesaid. The rather bizarre vicar happened to assume that we were also desirous of matrimony, and Mercutio thought he'd lark about and pretend we had been married, as one of his jokes. A similar misunderstanding occurred at the hotel, and the service station we stopped at on the way.

**Jo: **You're telling me that this is just a running joke?

**Ben: **Verily!

**Jo:** Stop. Poncing. Around. With. Your. Lingo.

**Ben: **Ne'er!

**Jo:** OK, srsly?

**Ben:** You know that annoys me.

**Jo: **Ditto.

**Ben: **Very well, just refrain from the apostrophe abuse, I beseech you.

**Jo: **Granted.

**Ben:** Thank the gods!

**Jo:** Look, Ben- shut up for a second, alright? Let me type this out.

**Ben:** Very well.

**Jo: **Erm, HELLO?

**Ben:** Sorry.

**Jo:** OK. When I thought that you had actually married Merc, I thought that was a hideous mistake. Really. Not kidding. And I was hurt. Probably a bit stupid, but yes, I DID expect to be invited to your wedding, and yes, Mercutio would be a fantastic in-law to have. Really fantastic. But, that aside, I sort of- I thought you would finally be happy! You've spent YEARS pining after this guy; he's pretty cool, don't get me wrong, but now you're letting him just joke about this? If it's bothering you, just tell him to stop. Please? Promise you won't go along with his stupid jokes just because you want his biologically impossible children?

**Ben:** Honestly Jo, it's just funny. And I have not been pining. I don't even like him. At all. Except as a friend.

**Jo:** Ben, would it kill you to admit it? For ONCE?

**Ben:** Jo, don't take this the wrong way, but I really think it might.

**Jo:** You, brother, are soppy. Downright soppy. But stop acting like life is a four-act tragedy, and you're the victim of the piece!

**Ben:** You're sounding like Mum again. Just so you know.

**Jo:** That was low.

**Ben:** I was attempting to split your preachy circle of reasoning.

**Jo:** Honestly, everyone's a critic. It's only because I care, you know.

**Ben:** If I didn't hate emoticons, there would be eye-rolling.

**Jo:** Quaking in my boots.

**Ben:** I should hope so.

**Jo:** I've got to go; don't spend too much time looking for that idiot Romeo. He's a waste of space.

**Ben:** You're probably right, but Mercutio is incredibly stubborn.

**Jo:** That reminds me...GOOD LUCK! xx

**Ben:** With what, precisely?

_**Jo is now offline.**_

* * *

**BACK ON TWITTER!**

**FadedImitationII: BenTheSuit MercBerk** I KNEW IT! You guys so owe me!

**BenTheSuit: FadedImitationII **Thank you- I hope we weren't too obvious.

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit FadedImitationII** Oh yes. We were. The pony gave it away.

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** Are you STILL talking about that pathetic joke?

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** I believe you mean pathetically romantic gesture.

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** If either of us is pathetically romantic, it can only be you!

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** I am hurt, Benny-Wenns. Or I would be, if my romantic gestures had not lead to rather enjoyable consequences.

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** I thought we had an agreement for you to stop that!

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit **If that's what _you_ interpreted my utterly innocent comment as, you have only yourself to blame.

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** What? You have the audacity to pretend you DIDN'T intend people to read it that way?

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** Oh, baby, you know that's what you love about me.

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit **Or rather, one of the many parts of me that you adore. ;)

**FadedImitationIII: BenTheSuit MercBerk** Congratz guyz, have a happy life. :P

**BenTheSuit: FadedImitationIII** Thank you. But if **MercBerk** continues to be quite so frustrating, I'm not so sure...

**MercBerk: FadedImitationIII **Cheers! xD We shall; have no fear.

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** OMGZ, I just used a semi colon! Picking up your trades, hubby-wubby! :P

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk **I do not have a monopoly upon it, you know.

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** Perhaps; bet people will still find it adorable.

**MercBerk:** Hey! Is it adorable that I've started using semi-colons? #Bencutio #Mercolio

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** Please tell me you did NOT just start a pairing name trend.

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** You love it, my little chicken. #Bencutio #Mercolio

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** You could at least select one; two seems excessive.

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** But I can't pick just onnnnne! And you're no help!

**MercBerk: **Hm, #Bencutio or Mercolio. Now, the first one ALMOST has "cute" in it; latter sounds a bit like a disease.

**MercBerk:** Someone else decide. I'm faaaaar too busy at present. Isn't that right, **BenTheSuit**?

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** No. Unless skipping around counts as "busy".

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit** You'll soon join me. You know you will. It's my magnetic personality.

**AlanAlan: **Lol!

**MercBerk: AlanAlan** And I suppose your magnetism is your sense of humour?

**AlanAlan: MercBerk **LOL!

**MercBerk: AlanAlan** Capital letters AND an exclamation mark? Someone's been diversifying a tad.

**FadedImitationIV: MercBerk BenTheSuit** Um, don't you guys think fifteen's a bit early? Anyways, congrats you two, you look adorable together.

**MercBerk: Faded ImitationIV** Well, perhaps. But when you've found it, you've found it! And damn right we do :P But **BenTheSuit** refuses to admit it

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** Oh, stop pouting. Even on twitter, you're such a pouter.

**BenTheSuit: FadedImitationIV** Thank you. And I agree; it is rather young. Fortunately, I turned sixteen three weeks ago.

**MercBerk: FadedImitationIV **Guess who has a thing for younger men** BenTheSuit**

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** That's just inappropriate.

**MercBerk: BenTheSuit **Darling, I'll make it up to you!

**BenTheSuit: MercBerk** Indeed.

_MercBerk has retweeted BenTheSuit's tweet!_

_**MercBerk: RT "Indeed."**_

**MercBerk: **One word: score. ;) Cheerio!

* * *

**Benvolio's Inbox:**

**T: **I hear you just got married.

**Ben:** In truth, it was little more than mild amusement.

**T:** That's a charming way to describe lifelong commitment.

**Ben:** ...What have I said to affront you?

**T:** Nothing. I'm not hacked off.

**T**: You _do_ actually know the guy though, right?

**Ben:** Yes, as it happens. For eight years in fact. One cannot describe me as too hasty, I should hope.

**T:** How adorable.

**Ben:** It's a pity I can't tell whether you're being sincere or not.

**T:** I only want the best for you.

**Ben:** Then you have no need to fret, T.

**T:** Hmph. Perhaps.

**Ben:** And you adopt this tone whilst "not" affronted! I say, I do hope I never encounter your wrath.

**T:** No doubt your husband can defend you against such paltry rage as mine.

**Ben: **I fail to understand your irritation; have I offended you somehow?

**T: **I've not met the boy. But you are rather young, aren't you?

**Ben:** I am sixteen.

**T:** As I said- young.

**Ben:** I fail to see the necessity for your tone of superiority.

**T:** I didn't mean to offend you.

**Ben:** But you meant to offend him, is that it?

**T:** Perhaps.

**Ben:** But you don't even know him!

**T:** I've never met him. There is a distinction.

Alarmed at the ability "T" had to irritate him, Benvolio pocketed his phone and continued gazing around, seemingly aimlessly, although Mercutio had insisted that they must have "eyes like hawks". Got to catch those two, Merc had claimed. The picnic plan had, thus far, taken two hours and five minutes, with no results to show for it.

A complete stranger having such power over his emotions was unpleasant. It hadn't felt right to go along with the lie to him, but now he had no intention of speaking to him in the near future, so it mattered not one whit.

For the first time, Benvolio considered that he had a crush for this mysterious stranger. That was a complication he could do without, he resolved, and shoved the matter from his mind. His crush quota had been full for the last three years.

"Your plan seems to be working _incredibly_ well so far." Ben's sarcasm was more amused than accusatory, and Mercutio beamed in response, not quite noticing the suppressed agitation lingering under Benvolio's expression.

"Isn't it just?"

"However, it does speak volumes about your character that you think of a picnic when most chaps would immediately contemplate the imminent sexual liaisons after a marriage service." However, Ben reflected, this was the place for one, if given the chance. Not that he imagined- of course not. A small green hill, dotted with flowers as if God's pen had been flicked violently at the ground, and a thin breeze drifting through lazily, brushing a few stray strands of ginger hair back into place.

Sod Romeo and Juliet, Benvolio found himself thinking. Sod them.

Mercutio smirked, but his face soon flicked to the left as red blossomed on the shaded side of his face. "Either that, or I've combined the two like an epic sneaky bastard." The blush faded, but the smirk was easy to reinforce.

Ben merely raised an eyebrow.

"I do believe I've never been so popular." Mercutio feigned hurt at the scepticism on his friend's face.

Benvolio shrugged, a half-smile, or perhaps more of a two-thirds-smile, on his face. "I wouldn't be so sure."

This lead to what Ben believed was termed a "glomp" or lurching hug, which he proceeded to loudly object to, although his real feelings on the matter were rather the reverse. "That is so adorable of you, hubbywubby!"

"Kindly stop impersonating Romeo and cease cutting off the airflow to my lungs."

"Hm. Persuade me."

* * *

**Twitter Feed: Trends:**

_**#Bencutio #Mercolio #10thingsMerclovesaboutBen**_

**MercBerk: **As an apology to **BenTheSuit**, I have decided to make up for my "inappropriate" joke with #10thingsMerclovesaboutBen.

**MercBerk: **#10thingsMerclovesaboutBen 1. His fantastic taste in cravats.

**MercBerk: **#10thingsMerclovesaboutBen 2. His generosity when people are in need.

**MercBerk: **#10thingsMerclovesaboutBen 3. His loyalty. Cliché, I know.

**MercBerk: **#10thingsMerclovesaboutBen 4. His confidence in exactly who he is, and refusal to be anything less than that.

**MercBerk: **#10thingsMerclovesaboutBen 5. His mother's cake-making skills. Mmmmm. ;) Perhaps it doesn't really count, but ties in to 2.

**MercBerk: **#10thingsMerclovesaboutBen 6. His embarrassed expressions.

**MercBerk: **#10thingsMerclovesaboutBen 7. His ability to keep relatively calm when his friends manage to accidentally set their hair on fire.

**MercBerk: **#10thingsMerclovesaboutBen 8. His vocabulary. Next best thing to French, if you know what I mean.

**MercBerk: **#10thingsMerclovesaboutBen 9. His sarcastic commenting on films that should not have been made.

**MercBerk: **#10thingsMerclovesaboutBen 10. ...Him.

* * *

Ben was glad that the sun had begun to set.

For one thing, it was magnificent. Not just beautiful, but magnificent. Trees transformed into thick black sticks, golden stripes rolling out across the field and up the hill to their feet, and a pink tint spreading into lilac as it seemed to absorb the blueness of the sky.

For another, it meant that Mercutio could not see that the irrepressible grin on his face was connected to his latest tweet, currently filling the screen of his phone, a thumb absent-mindedly petting it as one would a small animal. A ferret perhaps.

"I hate to spoil this, but we'd better get back."

Benvolio glanced to his left, certain that Mercutio had not been quite so close before...

He was hardly going to complain though.

"Five more minutes?"

Mercutio's teeth seemed to glow red rather than their usual white. Oh, the symbolism. "Five more minutes."

* * *

**On Ultimate Role-Playing Game, hereafter URPG:**

**MerkyMentality:** Ready, buddy?

**B3N86546:** Yes. Don't worry about how sad I look, lingering in the back of the bar two floors below, trying to avoid anyone seeing what I'm doing.

**MerkyMentality:** They probably think you're watching porn.

**B3N86546:** That would be understandable. Now, where are we?

**MerkyMentality:** Don't you remember this game at all?

**B3N86546:** I grew out of it swiftly.

**MerkyMentality:** Oh yes, Mr Manly Man. This is Rom's home. Whilst on here, he's RoMus. She's JuCess7. Right?

**B3N86546: **And our plan is to lurk here indefinitely?

**MerkyMentality:** Indeed!

**B3N86546:** Or we could do this.

_**B3N86546 has rung RoMus' doorbell!**_

_**How lucky! RoMus is on his way to answer it!**_

**MerkyMentality:** Oh, you cunning little man. But stop looking so damn pleased with yourself.

**RoMus:** Hi guys! Come in! I don't believe you've met ma wife

**JuCess7:** Hey! I'm Juliet.

**B3N86546:** Salutations.

**MerkyMentality:** And have you met my wife- Benny boy?

**RoMus:** Woah! No kidding!

**JuCess7: **OMG THAT'S SO ADORABLE!

_**JuCess7 has hugged you, MerkyMentality.**_

_**JuCess7 has hugged you, B3N86546.**_

**RoMus: **Dudes, I knewwww it! We totally need to double marriage-date or w/e!

_MerkyMentality/B3N86546: _He took the bait.

_B3N86546/MerkyMentality: _So I suppose your plan DID work.

_MerkyMentality/B3N86546:_ They are so predictable.

**MerkyMentality:** Sounds great! Whereabouts are you lot? We could meet you in the square at, say...

**B3N86546:** Noon? Wouldn't want to wake too early, after all.

**RoMus:** Why, Merc you've had a saucifying influence on him! He's a right minx!

**B3N86546:** ...Thanks?

**MerkyMentality:** I'm so proud of him!

**RoMus:** Come on, we must go and get a beer!

**MerkyMentality:** Well, you could meet us at our hotel?

**RoMus:** No no, on HERE, doof!

**B3N86546:** Of course. A virtual beer.

_**Welcome to the outside world! Be careful, people can challenge you in this area!**_

**LeatherJacket:** OI!

**JuCess7:** AAAAAAAAH!

_**JuCess7 is now offline.**_

_RoMus/MerkyMentality: He's her cousin._

_RoMus/B3N86546: He's her cousin._

**LeatherJacket:** I see the truth! You have chosen unwisely!

**B3N86546:** What's all this about?

**LeatherJacket:** I challenge you!

**RoMus:** Ah, I'm a pacifist!

**MerkyMentality:** He's not even talking to you!

**RoMus:** AH! I'm just- she wasn't-nothing's going on! Nothing! I was just walking and you go and challenge me! Not cool! Not at all cool! I've got to- to go over- I mean, no one! Nothing! Just I'm a pacifist you see and I can't fight you because of that, no other reason nothing at all I swear I didn't mean it!

**LeatherJacket:** Wth?

**RoMus:** NOOOOO! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME! I SWEAR I'LL NOT MESS WITH YOU- WE'LL NEVER TROUBLE YOU! IT'S NOT MY FAULT! THESE THINGS JUST HAVE TO HAPPEN, IT'S GONE ON LONG ENOUGH, IT'S LOVE I CAN'T REFUSE AND I- DAMMIT LEAVE ME ALONE!

**MerkyMentality:** He wasn't even talking to you! YOU ARE SUCH AN EGOTISTICAL WASTE OF SPACE- A PLAGUE UPON YOUR HOUSE, ROMEO!

_**RoMus is now offline.**_

**LeatherJacket:** Okay, What The F***?

**MerkyMentality:** I suppose on this subject, we can agree. Romeo is an egotistical child.

**LeatherJacket:** Why the hell is ANYONE friends with that pathetic little wimp? He's cowardly, conceited, snivelling and useless! Has the boy any testosterone at all? Why the hell would he think I would challenge HIM? Could just use capital letters, ffs!

**MerkyMentality:** I agree. It sickens me, but I do.

**B3N86546: **Now that we've all found some common ground, could we just...call it a day?

**LeatherJacket:** Never! I cared about you, Ben! I hated myself for it, but I couldn't help it! Who did you text every day without fail? Who cared when this pig was making stupid jokes? I cannot allow you to make a ludicrous mistake!

**MerkyMentality:** I see. Well, I suppose there's only one thing we can do. Or rather, that I can do.

**B3N86546:** NO! This is not some outdated duel!

**MerkyMentality:** The one thing you love, surely?

**B3N86546:** ...This is not the way to solve things! I refuse to be some mindless prize!

**MerkyMentality:** You aren't to me.

**LeatherJacket:** Nor to me!

_**MerkyMentality and LeatherJacket are ready to duel! This is all about reflexes! Point and aim with the mouse, and fire your chosen weapon with the mouse button! As the challenged, MerkyMentality shall select the weaponry.**_

**B3N86546:** Stop it!

**LeatherJacket:** It is far too late for that.

_**MerkyMentality has selected rapiers! The duel has begun!**_

_**B3N86546 has attempted to refute the challenge. No regulations have been broken. Refute denied.**_

**MerkyMentality:** Time for some taunting, I believe. Ahem. A PLAGUE UPON YOUR HOUSE, TYBALT!

_**The Fight shall begin in 2 minutes. Please get ready for teleportation.**_

**B3N86546:** Now, listen, this is ridiculous! Stop it! This whole thing is insane! We're not even married- Merc, just stand down!

**MerkyMentality:** I can't.

**B3N86546:** Pride? Is this the moment when you choose HUBRIS?

**LeatherJacket:** Oh, as ever, surely?

**B3N86546: **T, stop, please! I don't want any of this to happen!

**LeatherJacket:** I'm sorry Ben, but I do.

**B3N86546:** Why? WE'RE NOT MARRIED! Please, it was all a joke!

**LeatherJacket:** I'm relieved to hear it, but my point still stands. He is my rival.

**B3N86546:** Well, what's to prevent me from saying that I don't want either of you?

**LeatherJacket:** Nothing. But it's not like we'll believe that. You have been flirting with me by text!

_**The duel will begin in 1 minute.**_

**MerkyMentality:** I'll fight him regardless.

**B3N86546:** Why? Just leave him to it! And flirting is JUST THAT!

**MerkyMentality:** ...Because I need to.

**B3N86546:** No you don't!

**LeatherJacket:** Oh do get on with it. Spit it out, you coward!

**MerkyMentality:** I don't answer to you!

**B3N86546:** Merc, why?

_**The duel will begin in 30 seconds.**_

**MerkyMentality: **Ben- I just need to.

**LeatherJacket:** I've explained! I care about Ben! What's your excuse? Pride? Best friend status? Is that all this is about?

**MerkyMentality:** No it isn't!

_**The duel will begin in 10 seconds.**_

**B3N86546:** Merc? You can still stop this!

**MerkyMentality:** I can't. I...I am...I can't because

_**Teleport to arena. All conversation will now cease. **_

_**MerkyMentality and LeatherJacket have been teleported to the centre of the arena. B3N86546 will remain in the stands. Messages may not be passed between the stands and arena. Fullscreen HD mode activated.**_

_**Warning: Images of trauma may cause distress in this mode.**_

_**Begin!**_

**In-Game Audio commentary (speakers):**

And now, the arena selection has been made. The chosen arena is a staircase. No obstacles are included in this arena. A fall from the staircase will also prove fatal. Both competitors begin with 50 health points. A critical hit will kill instantly. Coin flip for top or bottom of staircase. LeatherJacket selected heads. The coin is heads. LeatherJacket shall begin at the top of the stairs.

Contestant 1: LeatherJacket, hereafter Tybalt

Contestant 2: MerkyMentality, hereafter Mercutio.

_**3**_

_**2**_

_**1**_

_**BEGIN!**_

Tybalt attacks with strike to Mercutio's left shoulder. Parried.

Mercutio attacks with stab to stomach. Parried.

_Why Mercutio? Why? The thought wouldn't leave Benvolio alone! He wasn't sure what he was flinching at. It might've been the graphics, the realistic clang, the emotionless commentary..._

Mercutio follows with jab to left hip. Hit. Tybalt loses 2 Health Points.

_Even Mercutio's avatar looks like him - smug. Identical, even. The strikes are fast, and the gore is obvious. The agony on LeatherJacket's expression is agonising to watch. Who did he want to win anyway?_

Tybalt attacks with downward swipe. Hit. Mercutio loses 20 HP.

_Ben's hands leapt up to grab the table. The blood, the pain...It almost hurt to see it. It was like watching the real Mercutio get his chest torn open... Was it a game? He could barely remember. All he could see was his friend's blood, draining onto the steps, meriting a close-up from the cold, careless game._

Mercutio adopts defensive chest guard. Manoeuvrability will be restricted.

Tybalt attacks with right shoulder jab. Parried. Mercutio follows with jab at Tybalt's right side. Hit. Tybalt loses 20HP.

_Ben's heartbeat was increasing, and it felt like HE was the one being stabbed, but by two separate people. The lines of blood on the two forms merited another close-up. Who had created this game?_

Mercutio attacks with downward strike. Parried.

Mercutio attacks with spinning left-hand blow. Parried.

Tybalt attacks with jab to groin. Parried.

Mercutio attacks with strike to legs. Parried.

_Perhaps it would be alright. The clangs made him wince, but they drew the "camera" to the meeting of swords, not to the blood still realistically sliding down the avatars._

Tybalt attacks with stomach jab. Mercutio attacks with leftward strike. Strikes connect. Each loses 2 HP.

_Maybe they could draw? Maybe that would be the best solution. But somewhere, he knew he had a preference. Who it was that Benvolio really wanted to win, even he was not sure._

Tybalt strikes left arm. Mercutio loses 6HP.

Mercutio strikes right arm. Tybalt loses 6HP.

_Too well-matched. He should have expected it._

Mercutio jabs to stomach. Tybalt dodges. Mercutio slips to side of steps.

_A fall will kill. A fall would mean watching Mercutio plummet to the floor, watching him crushed under his own weight into the ground, pitch-black, beneath them. The full screen would not disable, and the distance from the steps...it was dizzying._

Tybalt strikes downwards. Parried. Mercutio returned to safety of steps.

_Mercutio's avatar scrambling back onto the stairs would have been enough to cause Ben to collapse, purely from relief. Why did this hurt quite so much?_

Mercutio jabs at heart. Parried.

_That clanging. Clanging. If he could just disable the sound- but no._

Tybalt jabs at stomach.

Critical hit.

Mercutio loses remaining health points.

_Ben saw the glittering steel, already smeared with blood, rip right through Mercutio's form- the avatar's form that was too like his own. Why the side angle? WHY? His expression, pained beyond belief, eyes crushed shut, mouth gulping then closing. He fell. Dark hair flopped over the step. Blood mingled into the strands, so lifelike...Black and red splinter as drops of salted water drip down Benvolio's nose. Shame doesn't even register on his emotional scale. Pain numbs pride._

**Tybalt is victorious.**

_The proud figure, a foot planted on his victim, but all that Benvolio could think was the last words. The close up zoomed back into the fallen man- would he finish the sentence? "I can't because..." Because what, Mercutio? Because WHAT?_

**Last words have been disabled.**


	6. Act 3, Scene 2

**A/N: Thank you to qualls1 for informing me that the name which comes first in a pairing tends to be the more dominant! Prompted much amusement in the fictional realm.**

_**RoMus has returned to the game!**_

**RoMus:** OK, NOW I'm ready!

**LeatherJacket:** ...I'm done.

**RoMus:** Oh, now you change your tune!

**LeatherJacket: **I was never challenging you.

_LeatherJacket/B3N86546:_ Can you see now? I CARE!

**RoMus:** LIARRRR!

_B3N86546/LeatherJacket:_ How can you STILL NOT GET THIS? HOW? I NEVER WANTED ANY OF THIS AND YOU EXPECT ME TO LOVE YOU FOR KILLING MY FRIEND RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME?

_LeatherJacket/B3N86546:_ It's not reality!

_B3N86546/LeatherJacket: _It's the principle! I practically begged you both to stop and no! Not a hope! No one cares about me enough to cause a slight dent to their pride?

**LeatherJacket:** Oh, f*** off, Romeo.

_**RoMus and LeatherJacket are ready to duel! This is all about reflexes! Point and aim with the mouse, and fire your chosen weapon with the mouse button! As the challenged, LeatherJacket shall select the weaponry.**_

**B3N86546: **...F*** the pair of you.

_**B3N86546 is now offline.**_

_**LeatherJacket has selected pistols! The duel has begun!**_

**RoMus:** My love for Juliet shall be my pistol!

**LeatherJacket: **What've you done with Ben?

**RoMus: **Eh? I SAID I LOVE JULIET.

_**1 minute to teleportation!**_

**LeatherJacket: **What makes you think I give a flying *# * who my cousin is #**ing?

**RoMus:** Nice try, but psychology won't work on me!

**LeatherJacket: **Oh it's all about you-

_**Teleport to the arena. All conversation will now cease.**_

_**Fullscreen mode activated. Images may cause distress. Arena selected: Barren wasteland. Shoot on three. Shots to chest and head will be fatal. Three bullets each. **_

_**Contestant 1: LeatherJacket, hereafter Tybalt.**_

_**Contestant 2: RoMus, hereafter Julietzboif**_

_**3**_

_**2**_

_**1**_

_**BEGIN!**_

Tybalt's gun has malfunctioned.

Julietzboif shoots Tybalt in the chest.

**Julietzboif is victorious.**

**Last words have been enabled.**

**Tybalt: **This isn't over. It will never be over.

**A while later, in Romeo's email inbox:**

**From URPG:**

Dear RoMus,

It has come to our attention that you have attempted to hack the account "LeatherJacket". This behaviour is unacceptable. However, as cases have also been levelled against the account in question and another "MerkyMentality", you will be muted for 24hours, rather than banned. The two other accounts have been issued with life bans.

Any further abuse of the system will lead to the same.

Yours sincerely,

Escalus. URPG moderator.

**Reality, as we understand it:**

Lifts move very slowly indeed when you're a teenage boy desperately trying to climb three floors and demand answers to some very pressing questions indeed.

_It's only a game._

_It isn't real. It wasn't real. Mercutio is upstairs, probably laughing hysterically at something not very funny and brushing his hair._

_Well, maybe not brushing his hair._

_Just- No. Can't just ignore it. I can't._

_What's there to lose?_

**Mercutio's email inbox:**

**From URPG:**

Dear MerkyMentality,

Due to your flagrant disregard for the no-hacking-of-other-people rule, we have concluded that you and your IP address are no longer, and will never again be, worthy of account-constructing privileges.

Deal with it.

Yours sincerely,

Escalus. URPG moderator.

P.S. Condolences upon your avatar's death.

**Reality, again:**

A mixture of seething and disappointment battled it out in Mercutio's general stomach area. It had probably been a stupid idea to log back in after the you-have-died-haha-five-minute-timeout-bam business and try to hack Tybalt. Of course, Tybalt had hacked him first. That was the kick in the teeth, really. Their long internet rivalry might have finally drawn to a close, with this realisation of inanity, but there were several other points of attack and Mercutio is nothing if not persistent.

Well, until a door crashes open and a person of whom he cannot be less than fully aware storms in.

A man on a mission.

Did Ben have any idea how attractive that was?

Probably not the best time.

"What were you going to say?"

Mercutio suppresses a wince as the words catch in his ears. Ah. Yes. What had he been going to say? It was just as well that Tybalt had disabled last words. It would have been so very awkward.

It was going to be so very awkward.

"What was it?"

The dark haired boy's lies died on his lips as he turned to face his friend.

"Erm."

Ben waited expectantly for a significant period of time.

"You were saying?"

"Erm..."

"No, we've had that bit."

"Well, I...erm..."

"Kindly discontinue your attempts to afflict me with déjà vu and get to the point."

"I. That is, I...because I am- because you- bec-cause...I..."

It certainly wasn't the time to hold one's breath, but Benvolio's lungs seemed to be attempting suicide.

**Juliet's iPhone:**

**New text from T-Balt!**

Your dad's throwing a strop. Come back or I'll tell him where you are.

**Tybalt's iPhone:**

**New Text from Obligatory Relative 3!**

Why would you do that bbz? We're bff! And OMG that would be so HARSH!

**Juliet's iPhone:**

**New text from T-Balt!**

He keeps calling me. Not my problem. You sort it with him.

**New text from Obligatory Relative 3!**

GIT!

**New text from BASTARD!**

You have one hour. Get deciding, lassie.

**The Nurse: Your Online Agony Aunt!**

**Juliet:** So I've got to choose my husband or my dad!

**Nurse:** How awkward for you.

**Juliet:** It's TRUE LOVE, Nurse!

**Nurse:** No question.

**Juliet: **YOU understand, don't you? No one ever seems to understand me, or my darling, or our love, or our hardships, or our undying affection, our everlasting bond, which is so beyond truth that no one can even begin to describe its magnificence and all other beings fall silent in silent praise, silently, so that we may enjoy that silence together in ultimate blissful unity.

**Nurse:** I completely understand.

**Juliet:** Nurse, you're my BEST FRIEND!

**Nurse:** Now, as I see it, dear, this marriage to Paris IS unfair, but it might be easier to just talk to your father about it. He may be able to understand your reluctance.

**Juliet:** Father doesn't understand. He never seems to understand me, or my darling, or our love, or our hardships-

**Nurse:** You need to give him a chance, sweetie.

**Nurse:** Juliet?

**Nurse:** Why do I &*%!ing bother?

**Romeo's iPhone:**

**Eighteen new messages!**

**From Mama:**

Darling! What's all this about you being almost banned from URPG and associated forums?

**From Papa:**

Boy, do I need to remind you that Escalus' approval is absolutely crucial to me closing the seventeenth deal with his father?

**From Mama:**

Darling?

Darling?

ANSWER YOUR BLOODY PHONE!

**From Papa:**

BOY!

Your mother tells me that you are not answering your texts! Is this true?

**From Grandpa:**

All hell's just broken loose.

Clear your diary for the next forty-two hours; you need to be available for me to box your ears.

**From Uncle Fred:**

Romeo! Bill's really hacked off with you. Call me when you get this.

**From Mama:**

DARLING! MY DARLING BOY ARE YOU ALRIGHT!

YOU'RE NOT ALRIGHT! I KNEW IT!

**From Papa:**

Your mother informs me that she's had a premonition of your death! Stop trying to give her a heart attack and get back here at once!

**From Grandpapa:**

I don't know quite who you think you are, thinking you can just drop dead somewhere without answering your text messages.

I hope it was _excruciating_.

**From Mama:**

HAVE YOU BEEN INVOLVED IN A TRACTOR RELATED ACCIDENT?

**From Papa:**

ARE YOU CURRENTLY DANGLING FROM A LAMPPOST, WITH RUFFIANS RIFLING THROUGH YOUR POSSESSIONS?

**From Grandpapa:**

Now might be a good time to tell you that I can track the location of your iPhone. See you soon, boyo.

**IM conversation. Romeo + Juliet in communication with Friar Lawrence.**

**HappyCouple:** Friar, we just don't know what to do! Our match is so forbidden!

**HoundDog: **Perhaps you should have timed it to not exceed your bedtimes.

**HappyCouple:** Do not mock us, fair friar, we are in haste!

**HoundDog:** You young people always are.

**HappyCouple:** They will refute our marriage; we know it! There are all kinds of tricks they can pull to test our legally binding love for each other!

**HoundDog:** Well, it was nice meeting you both.

**UNHappyCouple:** You cannot cast us out like this! We're your obligation! We have been married!

**HoundDog:** How am I supposed to work this out?

**UNHappyCouple:** What would God have us do?

**HoundDog: **Oh god, who knows.

**UNHappyCouple:** That WAS why we asked.

**HoundDog:** What?

**UNHappyCouple:** Because GOD KNOWS.

**HoundDog:** Absobloodylutely.

**UNHappyCouple: **Tell us his commands! What would Joan of Arc have done in our place?

**HoundDog: **Oh, I don't know, elope?

**HoundDog: **LOL.

**HoundDog:** Hello? That was a joke.

**HoundDog:** I was joking. Jesting. Having a laugh. Not serious.

**HoundDog:** SO not serious, in fact.

**HoundDog:** ! #&ing sarcasm!

**RoMusDaSexBomb, here is your basket summary:**

1 set daggers; two-pack.

1 vial of poison, giving appearance of death if you're a consummate actor. Flavour: mint.

2 tickets to Paris.

1 copy of "Randy" issue 9.

**Checkout here!**

"Because, Benvolio, I am absolutely besotted with you."

With those words, the world faded away.

**MerkBerk's Twitter Feed:**

**MerkBerk: ** **BenTheSuit** and self are not married, but rather, associated. Thank you all for your kind support of #Bencutio.

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk **You do realise that #Bencutio gives YOU the subordinate role, right?

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** Can't say I'm complaining, but I didn't expect you to accept it quite so readily.

**MerkBerk: BenTheSuit** ...What. Why?

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** Apparently, the name which comes first in the pairing name for "slash" pairings (whatever that means) is the dominant person.

**MerkBerk: **As I was saying, ** BenTheSuit** and self are not married, but rather, associated. Thank you all for your kind support of #Mercolio.

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** HAH! It sounds like a disease and you know it. #Mercolio.

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** Or a boiled sweet. #Mercolio.

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** A COMBINATION! A boiled sweet which leads to illness! #Mercolio.

**MerkBerk: BenTheSuit** Not talking to you anymore.

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** Oh not the pouting. Not looking.

**MerkBerk: BenTheSuit** We both know you can't resist looking.

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** I damn well shall!

**Merkberk: BenTheSuit** Even if I were to do something particularly...exciting?

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** Need I mention how inappropriate that comment was?

**MerkBerk: BenTheSuit** Feel free to mention it at length.

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** ENOUGH.

**MerkBerk: BenTheSuit** That waz just unnecessaet.

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** "waz"?

**MerkBerk: BenTheSuit** You have only yourself to blame, Mr Glomp.

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** I do not "glomp".

**MerkBerk: BenTheSuit** In which case, you can stop nuzzling my neck.

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** Have some consideration. This is a public twitter feed.

**MerkBerk: BenTheSuit** I know. xD

**BenTheSuit: MerkBerk** You are the world's biggest bastard.

**MerkBerk: BenTheSuit **Aren't you so very lucky? #Mercolio

**BenTheSuit: **Followers, kindly convince the fool that #Bencutio trounces #Mercolio in every possible way?

**MerkBerk: BenTheSuit** I fear you'll have to convince me yourself.

"So remind me, why are we pretending to be mutually glomping each other?"

Mercutio shrugged. "Entertainment value. It's merely an extension of the fact that we are, as previously, sharing a sofa and watching television."

"A hobby I have always rather enjoyed." Ben admitted as a tanned hand brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"Same."

Silence fell. There was no fanfare, no firework display, no explosion as tension tore itself apart and swept them along with it. There was only the two of them, as had always been, doing what they had always done- sitting on a sofa, watching some godawful programme purely for each others' interjections.

The fact that Mercutio happened to have his arm round Ben was merely a natural extenuation.


	7. Act 4, Scene 1

_**A/N: Alright, here we go again!**_

**Juliet's iPhone:**

**Paris:** I hope you won't take it amiss that I should have received your number from your parents, nor let it impact upon your answer to the following request. I should very much like to have dinner with you, this evening if convenient. I understand that your position is rather more difficult than my own, as I have at least been free to choose the hand for which I shall vie; I can only apologise if I managed to convey insincerity when the opposite was my only object. Yours sincerely, Paris.

**DaddyWhoIsVeryMeanAndIHate:** Darling! Dinner! Paris is forgiving you! TAKE THIS CHANCE OR SO HELP ME WE SHALL NEVER SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN.

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver:** Sweetest moonbeam-daisy-ocean-dandelion-snugglebun, I just heard about P! Wut you gonna do? Baby, I 3 you! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXXXXXXxxxxxxx Don't goooooo0000000ooooo, please, doll! YOU ARE MY ALL.

**MummyWho'sNotAsBadAsDaddyButStillVeryMean:** Juli! Come along dear, accept Paris' offer. It won't be that bad. He's very charming, really.

**DaddyWhoIsVeryMeanAndIHate: **Juliet, you DAMN WELL ANSWER YOUR PHONE!

**MummyWho'sNotAsBadAsDaddyButStillVeryMean:** Your father didn't mean to swear, dear. DO text back soon! It's very important.

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver:** BABE, I LOVE YOU! STAY WITH ME, WIFEY!

**DaddyWhoIsVeryMeanAndIHate:** I F# *ING WELL DID MEAN TO SWEAR! ANSWER YOUR MO*&ERF #!ING PHONE! DO YOU WANT TO SEE YOUR FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY, YOU STUPID COW?!

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver:** Is he so much better than me?!

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **Have I disappointed u somehow?!

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **DID I SAY SOMETHING WRONG?!

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **WHATEVER IT WAS I DIDN'T MEAN IT. I LOVE YOUUUUUUU 3333333 xxxxxxxxxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxx

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **God, I shoulda known you deserve better than me! I'll go! DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME. I DON'T DESERVE YOU.

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **WHAT IS SO WRONG WITH ME?!

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **I'm sorry babe-hunny-snookums, I didn't mean to ask that- I know compared to your perfection my flaws must be so obvious and please please I don't deserve you didn't mean it BABEZZZZZZ

**MummyWho'sNotAsBadAsDaddyButStillVeryMean:** ...Darling, Daddy's been under a lot of stress lately and this deal with Paris really could tip the balance; you wouldn't want to make it awkward for us, would you? xxxxxxxx

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **I'M GOING TO JUMP OFF A BRIDGE.

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **A VERY TALL ONE.

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **WITH A HANDRAIL.

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **I SHALL CLIMB OVER THE HANDRAIL.

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **AND I SHALL JUMP!

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **IT IS VERY TALL AND WILL BE A VERY LONG FALL AND WORTH IT BECAUSE I LUV YOU SOOOOOO MUCH AND I CAN'T RUIN YOUR LIFE ANY MOOOOOORE! XXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxxxXXXXXXX 33333

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **GOOOOOOOOODBYE LOVE OF MY LIFE ETERNITY AND BEING BECAUSE YOU ARE 4EVER AND EVER EVEN AFTER I AM DEAD XXXXXXXxxxxxxxxXXXXXXX

**DaddyWhoIsVeryMeanAndIHate:** Is one dinner REALLY too much to ask?! HE'S RICH. WE DID NOT RAISE YOU TO POINTEDLY AVOID GOLD-DIGGING.

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver!:** I BET HE'S IMPOTENT.

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **AND BORING.

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver: **AND HAS SILLY HAIR!

**MummyWho'sNotAsBadAsDaddyButStillVeryMean:** Come along dear, poppet, sweetheart! It's a meal out at your favourite restaurant and with a charming man; you wouldn't want to turn him down out of hand, would you? He's CHARMING. Really properly charming like a lovely gentleman and he's ever so understanding about your little fiasco and will accept you whenever you like – but Daddy says make it soon – because that's how much he cares, my darling! He's everything you ever wanted! Do you remember that book we used to read about how the girl's first love wasn't the true one? Yes, well, that could be the case here too! This doesn't commit you to anything. Just a little chat and dinner. With flowers and candles. Very normal. Come along dear.

**RomeoTheBestHubbyEver:** ...Love you XXXXXXXxxxxxxXXXXX 33333

* * *

**Romeo and Mercutio's Text Conversation:**

**FUCKmylife:** MERC SHE'S GOING TO SEE PARIS AND I AM GOING TO JUMP OFF A BRIDGEEEEEE

**MerkyMerk:** ...

**FUCKmylife:** MERC SHE'S GOING TO SEE PARIS AND I AM GOING TO JUMP OFF A BRIDGEEEEEE

**MerkyMerk:** ...Yeah, I got what you said the first time.

**FUCKmylife:** Well you didn't ANSWER!

**MerkyMerk:** That really NEEDS an answer?

**Romeo and Benvolio's Text Conversation:**

**FUCKmylife:** BENNNNNNNNNNNN! SOMETHING AWFULS HAPPENNNNNNNNED.

**TimeLordBen:** I've heard. Apostrophe, please.

**FUCKmylife:** BENNNNNNNNNNNN! SOMETHING AWFUL'S HAPPENNNNNNNNED.

**TimeLordBen:** You may continue.

**FUCKmylife:** Juliet's gonna have dinner with him coz her parents are all up in her grill 'bout it and I WANT TO DIE.

**FUCKmylife:** Ben?!

**FUCKmylife:** BEN! I WANT TO DIE.

**FUCKmylife:** I

**FUCKmylife:** WANT

**FUCKmylife:** TO

**FUCKmylife:** DIE!

**TimeLordBen:** There is no need for such hysteria if I do not reply in under a minute!

**FUCKmylife:** YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME. NO ONE EVER LISTENS TO ME!

**TimeLordBen:** I was busy and you are repetitive.

**FUCKmylife:** Oh, your friend's life is not as important as necking your boif?!

**TimeLordBen:** ...Pretty much.

**Romeo and Mercutio's Text Conversation:**

**FUCKmylife:** MERKKKKKKKKKK! STOP SNOGGING BEN AND HELP ME!

**MerkyMerk:** Look, you got yourself into this mess.

**FUCKmylife:** A fine show of sympathy and love from my SO-CALLED FRIENDS!

**MerkyMerk: **Owch, unfriended on facebook. Now I'm really cut up on your behalf. My god, your pain is infectious. I am so mortally wounded I can barely type my incredibly sarcastic remarks!

**FUCKmylife:** YOU'LL REGRET THIS WHEN I JUMP!

**MerkyMerk:** Stop being melodramatic and get off the diving board.

**Romeo and Benvolio's Text Conversation:**

**FUCKmylife:** I am cursed! As if this betrayal wasn't enough, the parents are on ma case!

**TimeLordBen:** That has failed to modify your behaviour even slightly thus far; why start now?

**FUCKmylife:** THEY'RE THREATENING A PRIVATE DETECTIVE!

**TimeLordBen:** That seems a wholly reasonable course of action to me. You have absconded with their car, refused to tell them where you are, illegally entered into wedlock and, one assumes, had underage sex with a girl you met over the internet.

**FUCKmylife:** IT'S NOT HER FAULT! IT'S THE WORLD! WE ARE DOOOOOMED TO BE THE TRUE LOVERS IN A WORLD OF VICIOUS SNIPES!

**TimeLordBen:** I was given to understand that she'd "betrayed" you by having dinner with Paris?

**FUCKmylife:** NEVER! SHE NEVER BETRAYS ME. SHE IS PERFECT AND I AM UNWORTHY!

**TimeLordBen:** I do not fully appreciate how these statements may be reconciled.

**FUCKmylife:** The blame lies with her parents! They forced her into it! Just like mine would force me! WE ARE AGAINST THE WORLD.

**TimeLordBen:** Do let me know when you're willing to resume rational thought processes.

**Romeo and Mercutio's Text Conversation:**

**FUCKmylife:** What's the use?! CAN ANYONE BEAT THE WORLD?

**MerkyMerk:** No.

**FUCKmylife:** BUT I MUST! FOR HER! WHY ARE WE SO LOATHED AND DESPISED AND DIVIDED BY FOOLS WHO DO NOT AND CANNOT EVER UNDERSTAND! WE ALONE ARE THE [text missing].

**MerkyMerk:** Didn't get all of that.

**FUCKmylife:** I can send again?

**MerkyMerk:** Don't bother.

_**MerkyMerk's device is now offline.**_

**Romeo and Benvolio's Text Conversation:**

**FUCKmylife:** Why does no one ever understand, Benny?! Why won't they listen? Why must I be forever alone in a pair?!

**TimeLordBen:** I fear, dear boy, that it is largely due to your proclivity for spouting singularly soulless drivel.

_**TimeLordBen's device is now offline.**_

* * *

**Benvolio's email inbox:**

**From: Tybalt. Subject: You can guess...**

Greetings.

I can appreciate why you don't want to talk to me or hear from me or whatever; I've been a jackass. I might even have been a mildew-afflicted cur and pox-ridden gall bladder or any other botched insult you may care to name; can probs come up with a better one. I shouldn't have presumed to treat you like a prize or allowed jealousy to lost me a friend. Because, I, um, thought of you as a friend.

Bit weird, right?

I would really like it if we could talk? Even contempt's kinda better than nought. Well, I reserve the right to change my mind 'bout that. Hah. Joke.

Regards and all that,

Tybalt.

* * *

**Tybalt's iPhone:**

**UncleCap:** Tybalt! My daughter is being a complete COW! Paris will be there later this evening and I NEED TO KNOW WHAT SHE'S UP TO. I need your help, dear nephew.

**TyberTyberBurningBright:** You want me to hack her PC?

**UncleCap:** Essentially, yes. Work out what those two morons are planning.

**TyberTyberBurningBright:** Well, I do charge commission...

**UncleCap:** You'd better be joking, boy.

**TyberTyberBurningBright:** Yeah.

* * *

**Juliet's Father's Inbox:**

**From: Tybalt. Subject: Drivel.**

Find attached the chatbox files you'll need.

Next time, try and make it a challenge.

_Attachments: Chatbox File 4451.9; Private Message #2453; Email Ref PL:345#89992._

_**Items successfully downloaded!**_

* * *

_Chatbox File 4451.9:_

**Hubby: **Right bbz, I got a plan! I can take out all my money during the day then we run!

**Wifey: **Where to, sweetie-tootie-puppy-love? 3

**Hubby: **Anywhere, my darling! ANYWHERE IS HOME WHEN YOU ARE THERE BESIIIIIDE ME.

**Wifey: **YOU SAY THE SWEETEST THINGS!

**Hubby: **3

**Wifey: **So we ditch the parents just before I go to meet Paris and I run through the side alley- what's it called again poochie-gorgeous-one?!

**Hubby: **Wren Nook, my honey-apple-sunshine! XXXXXxxxxXXX

**Wifey: **Then you meet me at the church?

**Hubby: **Yes, Lovey!

**Wifey: **You're a genius Bbz! Then we run out the back and drive away in your car! 333333333

**Hubby:** Nobody can stop us! 3

* * *

_Private Message #2453:_

**Hubby: **Look hun, I drew a map! BTW, it's not Wren Nook but Wren Cranny, I meant.

**Wifey:** I SHALL KEEP IT FOREVER! You could be an architect! With this map to guide me, the name of the road is totes irrelevant! I can just follow your red crayon line!

**Hubby:** OMGS I should totes be one! Then we can have our own special house all made for us!

* * *

_Email Ref PL:345#89992:_

Dear Sir,

We at Automobile Association Weekly are pleased to issue you with this limited edition James Bond Numberplate. You should receive it tomorrow morning, as specified, to be fitted to your car by midday at the latest.

Yours Sincerely,

Aaron Westbridge, Secretary.

Disclaimer: This is not a real numberplate. It should not be used on public roads. Under no circumstances will it be classed as valid car identification. It may also make you look a right pillock. The AAW accepts no responsibility for any of the above.

* * *

**Real World: **

"So, how many missed calls is that now?"

"Five."

"If he makes it six, he's creepy." Mercutio smirked across at Ben, whose phone promptly began to ring once more. "So, he's creepy."

"So it seems." Ben muttered, finally accepting the call. He didn't notice the slight frown line between Mercutio's eyes as he refrained from commenting.

"Eyes on the road, eyes on the road..." He whispered, more to distract himself from an absurd degree of annoyance and jealousy which would almost definitely not be considered attractive.

"Ben?" The voice stuttered slightly and whether that was due entirely to the line was not immediately clear.

"Tybalt, I won't tell you again. Stop phoning me."

"I just want to talk?" It sounded like a question. Quite a turn up for the books, Ben's mind remarked. "Really! Can't we talk?"

"I'm busy."

"Doing what?"

"I'm busy." Ben repeated, irritation peaking.

Tybalt's voice took on another quality entirely. "Is _he_ making you say that?"

"What?" Ben took a moment to digest this absurd suggestion. "No. My boyfriend did not make any attempt to stop me talking to you, which I appreciate immeasurably."

Mercutio's smile became downright smug and Ben squeezed his shoulder briefly. Haha, supportive. He could totally do supportive. Definitely. He would beat foundations in supportiveness competitions, in fact. If supportiveness were to be a level in Mario...

"But he's there."

"Why does that matter?" Ben snapped down the phone. "It is not your concern."

"Maybe I will make it my concern."

Mercutio pulled into a slower lane and shot a sideways glance at his friend. Both waited.

"Maybe I'll duel him for real!"

A raised eyebrow was the dark-haired boy's only response and he returned his gaze to the road.

"Listen! He didn't even accept my challenge! HE CAN HEAR ME! I'LL DUEL YOU!"

Benvolio didn't hesitate. A swift jab with his thumb and the line was cut. A few more and all calls were diverted.

"No you f!*#ing won't."

Had he not been forced to focus on driving, his companion would have been tempted to fall into a melodramatic faint. As it was, Mercutio settled for theatrical mouth-gaping and widened eyes.

Ben had snapped.

The world must be in serious jeopardy.

* * *

**Instant Messaging: UncleCapulet and Tybalt**

**Ty**: Uncle, I have located the church little cousin referred to. Sending you the map now. Also a pic of the new 007 number plate being fitted to a car in the car park.

_Files sent!_

**UC:** Splendid work my boy!

**Ty:** You won't like what else I've got, tho.

**UC:** Explain.

**Ty:** A marriage certificate. Of sorts.

**UC:** You can't be serious.

**Ty:** I'm afraid I am.

**UC:** I'm on my way. Should anyone ask, this is a business trip.

**Ty:** When really, of course, it's a killing spree.

**UC:** Too F #*ing right.

_**Both participants are now offline.**_


End file.
